Ginny Weasley and the Shadow of What Remains
by Jedi Amoira
Summary: Classes, crushes, competitions, and the approaching future...what's a girl to think?
1. High Flying

"Ginny Weasley and the Shadow of What Remains"  
  
By Jedi Amoira  
  
--Dedicated to the "Club" with thanks for all our great discussions. Here's to many more!! ;-)--  
  
Disclaimer--If you like it, assume I don't own it. The Potterverse belongs to JKR, Steve Klowes, Scholastic and WB. Fanon belongs to the multitude...I'm simply paying homage with the sincerest form of flattery. No copyright infringement is intended, and no money is being made.   
  
Author's Notes--This is being posted simultaneous with the last chapter of "Ginny Weasley and the Specter of Atonement", and is intended as a sequel to that story intended to cover the events of Ginny's third year at Hogwarts. For those of you who know my posting habits, an advance warning that progress may be a lot slower in this work. I really hope you'll make the effort to stick with me anyway. As you all know, I may not own it, but I work hard, and I love it, so if you read it and enjoy it, please review it! And now...another first post, and another beginning! *drum roll*  
  
***************  
  
Ginny Weasley could scarcely contain her excitement.   
  
  
  
She had been waiting for this moment ever since school had let out for the summer. She had begun to think it would never come, but the time had come at last. She looked around anxiously at the thought, as if fearful acknowledging her opportunity would cause it to cease to exist entirely. Nothing happened.   
  
  
  
Ginny drew a deep, calming breath and squared her shoulders as if to greet anticipation with equanimity before stepping away from the back door of the Burrow.   
  
  
  
She paused after a few steps to look around again, but her brothers were nowhere to be seen--or heard. Trying to ignore the prickling at the back of her neck that insisted there was something unnatural in the solitude, she darted across the overgrown garden. The door on the shed squealed loudly as she eased it open. Ginny was convinced it had done it on purpose just to mock her. She gave it a dark scowl to let it know it didn't intimidate her, and slipped inside.   
  
  
  
Boxes and crates formed blocky towers in random spaces across the hard-packed dirt of the floor. In the sparse light that filtered through the single filthy window in the back wall and the crack of the open door, Ginny could see the vague outline of drooping shelves overrun with a variety of muggle plugs, gears, springs, and the like. Dust motes hovered in the air around her like a strange, musty faery mist that made her want to sneeze. She swiped a hasty hand under her nose, snorting softly in the effort to relieve the feeling.  
  
  
  
It didn't take her long to find what she wanted--she knew exactly where to look. She grabbed one of the twins' brooms--she didn't really care which--and carried it into the yard. It prickled in her hand, a limb that had gone to sleep finally beginning to reawaken. Joy swelled painfully upward as she burst into balmy blue freedom. Suddenly exuberant, Ginny somersaulted across the sky, sprawling into a speedy dive leveling abruptly into a burst of speed toward an imaginary goal. Lee Jordan's voice echoed in her head, announcing her brilliant moves to shouting stands as she whirled and danced, sprinted and soared across the sky.   
  
  
  
As years of habit slowly began to reassert themselves, Ginny's mind began to wander. It seemed inevitable--whenever her mind began to wander, it would eventually find its way to Harry. She knew she shouldn't give in to the urge to dream about him, reminded herself he never gave her a thought, let alone a second or a third one, but the less she wanted to think about him, the more he seemed to appear in her thoughts, a weed in the cracks of the village sidewalks. She hardly noticed her own frustrated sigh as she pictured what how he would react if he saw her practicing Quidditch on a borrowed broom.   
  
  
  
Before the image had really solidified itself in her head, a shout slammed through it like a Bludger, pushing Ginny's broom into a precarious sideways plunge. Blood humming with adrenaline, Ginny reined the broom into a smooth--and somewhat more sedate--landing. She hit the ground looking around for her brothers, convinced her secret had finally been discovered, but she didn't see anyone. She replaced the broom, expecting someone to pounce at every step, but nothing happened until the door the shed squealed again and she nearly fell backward over her own feet.   
  
  
  
She regained her balance feeling unaccountably annoyed as several more shouts rose, sounding as if several people were trying to talk--or yell--at once. Yelling--especially from Mum--was a several-times-daily occurrence in the Weasley household, but it was a bit unusual for people to yell back. Finding herself with nothing better to do with her stolen broom returned, Ginny decided she might as well investigate.   
  
  
  
She found everyone but Percy congregated in the comfortable clutter of the family room. Mum was in full-rage, Dad seemed to be alternating between reasoning with her and supplementing her rant, the twins held themselves somewhere between defense and indignation, and Ron appeared to be trying to roll on the floor in a fit of laughter without drawing attention to himself. They all paused to turn and look at Ginny, making her feel as though she had toothpaste smeared all over her face or some other embarrassing flaw. "What?" she asked, making a stab at being light-hearted and casual. "Did Dad win the Daily Prophet Galleon Draw again?"  
  
  
  
"Do you have any idea what your brothers have done?" Mum demanded, hands on hips.   
  
  
  
It was on the tip of her tongue to point out she didn't, or she wouldn't have asked, but Ginny rather wanted to live. "Uh..." Ginny racked her brain. "Charmed the soap to hide again?"  
  
  
  
"Not exactly."  
  
  
  
"But thanks for the idea." Fred flashed a reminiscent grin in George's direction, and Ginny almost smiled too. She had to admit, that had been hilarious.  
  
  
  
"GINNY," Mum reproached. "This isn't a joking matter."  
  
  
  
"Well, actually, Mum--"  
  
  
  
"If you want to get technical--"  
  
  
  
"That's exactly what it is." The twins finished together, folding there arms and looking at her like cats in a room full of canaries. 


	2. Weasley Business

Disclaimer--If you like it, assume I don't own it. The Potterverse belongs to JKR, Steve Klowes, Scholastic and WB. Fanon belongs to the multitude...I'm simply paying homage with the sincerest form of flattery. No copyright infringement is intended, and no money is being made.   
  
Author's Notes--This is intended as a sequel to that story intended to cover the events of Ginny's third year at Hogwarts. For those of you who know my posting habits, you already know posting has been a lot slower in this work (for which I apologize--I've missed our "club"), and it will probably continue to be slower. I really hope you'll make the effort to stick with me anyway. As you all know, I may not own it, but I work hard, and I love it, so if you read it and enjoy it, please review it!   
  
Luna Project--Thanks! I hope you keep reading!  
  
Lady Siri--It's great to know you've read my first two stories. I hope you enjoyed reading them as much as I enjoyed writing them. :-) I hope you read and enjoy this one as well.  
  
Raiining--More at last! Sorry for the delay! I'm thrilled you think SoA was true to the book...that's some of the highest praise I could ask for...and so is the idea I've helped to fuel your Ginny-mania...she's a great character, and deserves to be admired! I'm looking forward to what you think of future installments.  
  
Bee11--I'm waiting for this story to evolve, too...I'm really excited about the richness there to be explored...if I can do it justice.   
  
Adrienne--I liked the idea of the story starting with Ginny sneaking out to practice, though, of course, it was taken directly from OotP when Hermione tells Ron Ginny has been doing that very thing for years. *winks* The twins have depths I think a lot of people miss...and I would hate to underestimate the importance of comic relief anyway. *grins* Sorry to keep you suspended for so long...I've definitely missed our discussions. *hugs*  
  
EEDOE--I liked that line about the solitude as well. :-) I love the fact the scene with Mrs. Weasley and the twins reminded you of you and your boys... (not only do I like the connection between you and me, I like knowing Mrs. Weasley is being portrayed in a realistic and sympathetic manner.) *grins* Ginny is a bit young, but someday she'll understand the bittersweet beauty of having people who live in her thoughts forever. *grins* Thanks so much for your patience and support. *hugs*  
  
Bill--Yay! I'm so glad you think the transition between the two stories was smooth! :-) I totally agree...with as many injuries as Quidditch seems to induce, reserve players seem necessary, but...above all, the plot devices. *winks* Yeah...I think Harry would notice Ginny instantly, too...but guys aren't the only ones who miss the obvious. *winks* The ending of this chapter was definitely meant to leave people curious, so...*grins and winks* And, thanks to you to for being so understanding and comforting. *hugs*  
  
*************************************************************************************************  
  
"IF YOU CALL ENDANGERING OTHER STUDENTS AND THROWING AWAY YOUR FUTURES A JOKE, YOU HARDLY UNDERSTAND WHAT'S FUNNY!" Mum roared, making the walls shudder as if they wanted to cower away from her.   
  
  
  
"We're not throwing away our futures," George objected indignantly.   
  
  
  
"We're thinking about them," Fred added.  
  
  
  
"Which is why we decided it was time to start marketing," George said rationally.  
  
  
  
"And our products aren't as dangerous as you think," Fred said, sounding a bit hurt.   
  
  
  
"We've tested them very carefully," George agreed.  
  
  
  
Ginny was beginning to feel a bit dizzy. She pushed Ron out of the way and sat down unceremoniously.   
  
  
  
"Well, boys," Dad began, "that certainly seems--"  
  
  
  
"RUNNING A JOKE SHOP IS NOT A FUTURE," Mum thundered. "YOU'RE OLD ENOUGH TO BE REALISTIC--YOU SHOULD BE THINKING ABOUT JOBS WHERE YOU CAN MAKE A LIVING--"  
  
  
  
"Joke shop?" Ginny repeated to herself, wondering if the entire world had gone batty while she'd been up on her broom.   
  
  
  
Ron nodded imperceptibly. "Apparently Fred and George have been planning to start one for a while," he said from the corner of his mouth. "Mum caught them making up an inventory list."  
  
  
  
"You mean they actually have an inventory?" Ginny asked, surprised.   
  
  
  
"Beats me," Ron admitted with the slightest suggestion of a shrug. "But you heard George--he said they've tested the products, so they must have some."  
  
  
  
"We can make a living at this," George was insisting.  
  
  
  
"We're good at it," Fred added.  
  
  
  
"We've been developing things for years," George said.   
  
  
  
"AND THAT'S SUPPOSED TO MAKE ME FEEL BETTER? ALL THIS TIME YOU COULD HAVE BEEN WORKING ON YOUR STUDIES, YOU'VE BEEN PLANNING TO MAKE A LIVING BLOWING THINGS UP? WHAT SORT OF AN EXAMPLE ARE YOU SETTING FOR YOUR SISTER?"  
  
  
  
"Funny," Fred said so softly, Ginny thought--she hoped--she was the only one who heard him, "I don't think I've heard her complain."  
  
  
  
"Ginny has other brothers to set her an example," George said a bit more loudly. Ginny winced.   
  
  
  
"PERCY HAS A RIGHT TO FEEL THAT WAY," Mum snarled. "HE HAS AN INTERVIEW AT THE MINISTRY OF MAGIC AS WE SPEAK, AND HE'S QUITE LIKELY TO GET QUITE A GOOD JOB THERE--BEING LIKE HIM WOULDN'T HURT EITHER OF YOU A BIT."  
  
  
  
"Yes, it would," the twins muttered together under their breath. Ginny didn't think she'd ever heard them use a tone quite so bitter.   
  
  
  
"Now, Molly," Dad said, "if the boys have really--" he broke off with a sigh as Mum turned on him, eyes flashing and half-full of tears. "Perhaps we better discuss this later," he said firmly.   
  
  
  
Mum opened her mouth to object, but Dad was already steering her toward the kitchen. Ginny thought she heard him say, "I think it's about time for some tea."  
  
  
  
Ginny, Ron, and the twins were left to stare at each other in silence for several seconds. "Are you really thinking about starting your own joke shop?" Ron asked eventually.  
  
  
  
Fred and George exchanged such a long-suffering look, Ginny nearly hugged them, only she didn't think it was a good idea given the dangerous emotional charge still hovering in the air. "No," George said shortly. "We're not thinking about opening our own joke shop."  
  
  
  
"Then--" Ron began.  
  
  
  
"We're going to open our own joke shop," Fred said flatly. "We've already decided on the name."  
  
  
  
"Really?" Ginny grinned. "Well?"  
  
  
  
Fred and George raised their eyebrows at her. "Weasleys Wizarding Wheazes." George said. "WWW for short."  
  
  
  
"Catchy," said Ron.  
  
  
  
Ginny was interested in more important things. "Are you going to show them to us or not?"  
  
  
  
"Why, Ginny, I'm surprised at you."   
  
  
  
"Encouraging irresponsible behaviour--what would your mother say?"  
  
  
  
"I dunno," Ginny said, shrugging. "Want to go and ask her?"  
  
  
  
"Follow us," said Fred, ignoring Ron's snickers somewhat heroically.  
  
  
  
An entire lifetime with the twins hadn't prepared Ginny for the sheer scope of what they could do. After an enthusiastic demonstration of their wares, accompanied by an even more enthusiastic presentation of their business plan, Ginny was absolutely convinced Fred and George would be crazy to do anything else. Ron didn't seem quite so convinced, but he definitely didn't disapprove. Between Ginny's insistence that Mum would eventually come around because in the end she just wanted the twins to be happy, and Ron's fascination with their Belching Bites--"Lee gave us the idea for those," George remarked generously--the twins were in a considerably better mood for dinner.   
  
  
  
Whatever Dad gave Mum for tea, she, too, seemed to be reasonably calm, if quiet, and the rest of the evening passed with nothing worse than Percy's endless descriptions of the various offices he had interviewed in.   
  
  
  
Except for a slight tension in the air whenever Mum and the twins were in the same room together, the whole incident was forgotten by the end of the week. 


	3. Game Anticipation

Disclaimer--If you like it, assume I don't own it. The Potterverse belongs to JKR, Steve Klowes, Scholastic and WB. Fanon belongs to the multitude...I'm simply paying homage with the sincerest form of flattery. No copyright infringement is intended, and no money is being made.   
  
Author's Notes--This is intended as a sequel to that story intended to cover the events of Ginny's third year at Hogwarts. For those of you who know my posting habits, you already know posting has been a lot slower in this work (for which I apologize--I've missed our "club"), and it will probably continue to be slower. I really hope you'll make the effort to stick with me anyway. As you all know, I may not own it, but I work hard, and I love it, so if you read it and enjoy it, please review it!   
  
I realized--a little belatedly--I had never responded to the fantastic reviews for the last chapter of SoA, so I'd like to do so--more briefly than they deserve.   
  
Lid'l Rogue--Thanks!...hope you're still reading.  
  
SelenA--Thanks...I'll consider original stories someday, but I have a long way to go before I'm done with this year.   
  
Raiining--I'm so happy you noticed my themes! *beams* *does little dance* Thanks!   
  
Bee11--I thought it was rather fitting for Ginny and the twins to pull that prank together...I'm brainstorming on Pig's name...any suggestions?  
  
Adrienne-- I'm really proud of Ginny and Lupin, too...I think their relationship is really incredible, and I'm honored to have been part of it. Thanks so much for the great in-depth review of the story as a whole...that means so much to me...it was really beautiful, and I will hold it close to my heart. I'm honored to have you as part of the circle as well...it really wouldn't be the same without you! *hugs*   
  
EEDOE--I'm glad you liked Ginny's summary of her year...I thought it was rather poetic. ;-) Thank you for reading another story...and another...*hugs*   
  
Bill--I'm not a witch, but if I were...would my boyfriend be in trouble! *winks and makes wry face* I'm glad you think I'm good with the pranks...I think it's all the things I wish I could do in real life and never really would. *sighs* I'm glad you noticed the way the end of SoA dove-tailed with the end of MoP--I'm pretty proud of that! Thanks for keeping Ginny and me company on the way. *hugs*   
  
I know you guys want to get to the good stuff...not much longer...just chapter two reviews...  
  
Bee11--I loved that exchange with Ginny and the twins...it sounded just right. *winks* I missed you too--thanks for still reading! *hugs*  
  
J. Rhaye--Thanks for letting me know who you were--I would have missed you if you hadn't! You have a great point about Ginny being the centerpoint for an emotional tug-of-war and how that must affect her--I'm impressed! I have to admit, I hadn't really thought about Ron, but now that you mention it...*grins* *BIG HUGS*  
  
EEDOE--Hmmm...maybe you were channeling Smeagle, but I've always had a bit of a soft-spot for him...*grins and winks* I'm thrilled you're thrilled! *hugs*  
  
Bill--Nice catch on the reference to Ginny's prank! *winks* Ginny as spokesmodel...what an interesting idea...*smirks* *hugs*  
  
Okay...I hope that's everyone, if not, I really apologize--I appreciate you all! Now--on with the story!  
  
*****************************************************************************************************************************  
  
Days melted one into the next, dissolving in a puddle of remembered summer sun. Ginny practiced flying whenever she could steal the opportunity, helped the twins develop ideas for new products and the occasional prank on Percy, performed a joking rain conjuration dance spell that left them both soaked and a little surprised with her friend Luna Lovegood who lived nearby, wrote letters to friends who didn't--even if she could never quite manage to write one to Harry--watched clouds with Ron, played chess with Dad, obsessed over Quidditch scores when no one was watching, and otherwise did whatever happened to strike her fancy.  
  
  
  
One night at dinner, when Percy had just finished listing--at length--his reasons for deciding on his new position with the Department of International Cooperation for the thirteenth time, describing the importance of his first assignment researching the thickness of imported cauldron bottoms for the ninth, and hinting at his possible involvement with some secret upcoming event for the sixth, and had just moved on to bragging about how invaluable his help had been in helping Mr. Crouch plan the Quidditch World Cup for the fifteenth, Dad interjected, "Oh, that reminds me." His voice was mild, but his eyes were sparkling, and Ginny wasn't the only one who noticed--Ron stopped in the middle of a yawn with his mouth full of food, the twins froze in the process of miming Percy's speech (though that might have been the way Mum was glaring at them), and even Percy seemed mildly intrigued.   
  
  
  
"Did you get tickets?" Ron asked excitedly through a hurried swallow.   
  
  
  
"I did indeed," Dad confirmed, beaming with satisfaction.  
  
  
  
"Good seats?" George asked eagerly.  
  
  
  
Dad grinned. "Top box. Right next to Bagman himself, boys."   
  
  
  
"How many?"   
  
  
  
"Enough for everyone," Dad reassured the suddenly nervous-looking Ron. "You and Percy, Fred and George, Bill and Charlie and me, even Harry and Hermione--and, of course, Ginny." Ginny let out a breath she hoped no one could see--there for a minute, she'd been afraid she was about to be left at home while her brothers saw the best game of Quidditch in England, and if they went without her, she wasn't sure she'd ever recover. "I offered to get one for your Mum, too, but--"  
  
  
  
"I don't care to see any game England can't win," Mum sniffed. Dad patted her hand with an affectionate grin.   
  
  
  
"Harry and Hermione are coming too?" Ron repeated, as if wanting to be sure he'd heard correctly.   
  
  
  
"Harry's nearly one of the family," Dad said promptly. "Of course he's included--and so is Hermione since her parents won't be allowed to attend--due to security. Your mother and I will write their families first thing tomorrow, and then you can write them directly."  
  
  
  
"Cool!" Ron said, immediately satisfied.   
  
  
  
Ginny grinned, feeling a little flutter in her stomach at the thought of seeing Harry.   
  
  
  
"Oh, it will be so nice to see Bill and Charlie," Mum said happily, and the flutter deepened as Ginny realized she would finally have the chance to introduce Harry to the rest of her family. She tried to concentrate on how nice it would be to see Hermione, whom she missed almost as much as she had missed Harry, having become quite close to her over the course of the last year, but her mind was suddenly blank. Even the food left on her plate couldn't hold her attention--she just wasn't hungry. With a squish and a start, she realized she'd put her elbow in the butterdish--again. Blushing deep red, she pulled it hastily clear, and feigned nonchalance.   
  
  
  
  
  
The next day, Bill and Charlie arrived in time for a nice family dinner. Mum shooed Ginny off to bed long before she was ready, but Ginny knew she was far too excited to sleep, so she waited until she was sure no one was paying any attention to her and snuck out to the garden to stare up at the stars.   
  
  
  
They hung overhead, impossibly far away in an endless sky, but somehow so clear and brilliant she felt as though she could reach out and touch them…the sight somehow reminded her of the way she had once felt Harry's presence as if through a shifting veil, a light that touched her…and she knew that connection would always be with her. She wondered if somewhere he was thinking about her…  
  
  
  
She wondered what would happen when they were in the same place together…  
  
  
  
Maybe they would finally be able to talk to one another…have a conversation…even talk about what had happened… She could do that now. She wanted to do that now…to know if he noticed, if he knew, if he felt the connection between them, too. She thought he did, but she had never been comfortable enough to ask him…she had never been able to separate herself from what she had done. She could do that now, too. She wondered if Harry could…but she secretly thought he always really had.  
  
  
  
Slowly even thoughts of Harry faded into the vastness of midnight beauty. Ginny could feel herself falling into the trance of intense awareness that was the first and hardest step of Occulumency…after a year of practice, it was finally becoming something she did without thinking. She smiled to herself, making a distant mental note to tell Professor Lupin the next time she wrote him…  
  
  
  
Perhaps it was the thought of him, and the hazy recollection of their last conversation that reminded her of Tom…or the version of him that still existed…she felt almost as if she could sense him out there, somewhere just beyond the bounds of the garden, lurking, coiled like a snake about to strike…and the idea made her shiver. But she knew she was being silly--Professor Dumbledore himself had said Tom--she refused to grant him the dignity of that ridiculous self-title, at least in her thoughts--was a mere shadow of himself, barely clinging to life…he wasn't even in England. He was in Romania. There was nothing to be worried about…not even Sirius Black. 


	4. In and Out

Disclaimer--If you like it, assume I don't own it. The Potterverse belongs to JKR, Steve Klowes, Scholastic and WB. Fanon belongs to the multitude...I'm simply paying homage with the sincerest form of flattery. No copyright infringement is intended, and no money is being made.   
  
Author's Notes--For those of you who know my posting habits, you already know posting has been a lot slower in this work (for which I apologize--I've missed our "club"), and it will probably continue to be slower. I really hope you'll make the effort to stick with me anyway. As you all know, I may not own it, but I work hard, and I love it, so if you read it and enjoy it, please review it!   
  
Raelbin--Thanks! I love hearing that--hope you enjoy this installment too. ;-)  
  
Ranting Idiot--I'll try to make the story live up to the beginning. *crosses fingers* I would love it if you joined our little club...it's a lot of fun, and the more the merrier!:-D  
  
Raiining--Of course I read your review...I practically LIVE for them! Thanks for letting me know what you think! I always Ginny seeing the HP universe from Ginny's eye view as well. *grins* I'll do my best to give you a good idea what happened to Ginny during GoF.  
  
J.Rhaye--Good for EEDOE! I'll have to thank her. ;-) And thank you again for your encouragement and support! *hugs* Somehow, I just KNEW that would be Molly's attitude...it just feels right. *grins* I have to admit, I like seeing hints of the plucky personality she is/was when she isn't dealing with the kids. *winks* I'm glad you enjoyed my little romantic moment (I did too.) *hugs*  
  
EEDOE--Thanks for recruiting more great members for FF.net...you're amazing! *hugs* Ginny counting cracked me up...and, as for the twins...what would we do without them? I really hope they haven't disappeared in books 6 and 7! I always felt sort of bad for Molly being left out...so I feel better now that I know she chose not to go on her own. *winks* You liked my timing with the butter! *does happy dance* And you noticed the repeating image of the snake and the stars! *beams* I'm so excited!!! Yay!! I hope you enjoy this chapter too...thanks for the great review! *hugs*  
  
Bill--Sometimes a line just resonates in your bones...that one about the sun did, so I'm glad you loved it as much as I did. *beams* I think Ginny and Luna were surprised because they didn't take the spell very seriously, and were just dancing around being silly. Yeah...It was horrible Ginny would think she would be left out, but like EEDOE, I think it's understandable given her history...and I wanted to give her a big hug too! Molly does seem like an enthusiastic fan, doesn't she? *grins* Did you really like the stargazing scene? *bounces happily up and down* You're right...Dumbledore did say Voldemort was in ALBANIA...but who if Ginny got a bit confused and doesn't know his exact location, who can blame her? *winks* WOW...I'm totally blown away...it means so much to me to know you think I've improved as a writer! *blushes* Thanks so much! *hugs*  
  
*****************************************************************************************************************************  
  
"Now, Arthur," Mum said warningly, pointing at Dad with a wooden spoon as Ginny made her way down the kitchen stairs, "don't get carried away."  
  
  
  
"Honestly, Molly," Dad said calmly, "I think I can manage popping in and out without your help."  
  
  
  
Mum snorted dangerously. Ginny paused on the steps to consider backing up. "Hermione's parents are muggles."  
  
  
  
"Ah, Ginny," Dad greeted with the air of one trying to change the subject without looking like they were trying to change the subject, "there you are."  
  
  
  
"Watch your father," Mum ordered, fixing her with a death-threat stare. "You know how he gets around muggles."  
  
  
  
"Uh," Ginny said intelligently. "Where's Ron?"  
  
  
  
"In bed," Mum said shortly, turning back toward the stove. "He seemed to think...how did he put it-'Hermione didn't need his help to figure out a flu as much as he needed to sleep, and he'd see her when she got here'."  
  
  
  
"Ah." Ginny said for lack of anything better, raising her eyebrows.   
  
  
  
Dad caught her eye with a long-suffering look, and the slight suggestion of a shrug that made her want to giggle.   
  
  
  
"Yeah," Ginny agreed hurriedly, "let's go, then, shall we?"  
  
  
  
They shuffled somewhat anxiously off in the direction of the fireplace, and took down the old clay flowerpot that held the Floo Powder. It was a very surreal feeling to step into the warm emerald flames and call out a muggle residence, but it was certainly convenient Dad's friends at the Ministry had connected the Harry and Hermione's houses for the day.  
  
  
  
She came to a somewhat wobbly stop in a small but solid little brick fireplace opening into a nice, neat, open little room with prim wing chairs and plush rugs. A vaguely familiar couple stood just off to one side, looking somewhat uncomfortable. "Ah, hello," the man said.  
  
  
  
"Hello. Arthur Weasley," Dad said, "Ron's father? We met a couple of years ago in Diagon Alley?"  
  
  
  
"Yes, that's right," the man said, exchanging an unreadable look with his wife. "We had an interesting discussion on public transportation. George Granger, and this is my wife, Caroline?"  
  
  
  
"Nice to see you again," Dad said, inclining his head, "you remember my daughter, Ginny?"  
  
  
  
"Ah, Ginny," Mrs. Granger said with a soft, serene smile strongly reminiscent of her daughter. "Hermione has told us quite a bit about you."  
  
  
  
Ginny flushed sheepishly and tried to resist the urge to look at the rugs.   
  
  
  
Mrs. Granger's smile seemed to deepen. "I think Hermione's upstairs finishing up her packing," she said cheerfully. "Why don't you run up there and see if you can't talk her out of a few books?"  
  
  
  
Ginny grinned. "I'll try..."   
  
  
  
"I know," Mrs. Granger said affectionately, "Hermione and her books, right?" She tipped her head in the direction of the stairs. Shooting a quick glance at her father for permission, Ginny beamed her thanks, already following directions.   
  
Hermione's room wasn't hard to find-it was the first open door at the top of the stairs. It wasn't much bigger than Ginny's own little niche, but, unlike Ginny's, it was neat, a trait that left Ginny feeling a little out of place. Hermione, bent over a stack of books on the bed, an open trunk at her feet, so that her long, bushy brown curls fell across her face, was a calm, intelligent-looking girl with an air of warm competence that somehow managed to be inviting. Ginny always felt better just knowing Hermione was around to deal with things.   
  
  
  
"Your mum says to talk you out of those," Ginny informed her.   
  
  
  
Hermione jumped slightly, dropping the book she'd been holding back on to the stack so that it tumbled over slightly. "Oh, Ginny! I didn't hear you come in!"  
  
  
  
"I noticed," Ginny told her, lips quirking.   
  
  
  
"It's so good to see you!" Hermione exclaimed, throwing her arms around her and pulling her into a hug nearly as bone-crushing as Hagrid's. "Where's Ron?"   
  
  
  
"Ron?" Ginny repeated, trying to buy time. "He...uh...had...something he had to catch up on."  
  
  
  
"Homework," Hermione said, like a cat pouncing on something it had been eyeing for a while. "I knew he was leaving it til the last minute!"  
  
  
  
"Well..." Ginny said awkwardly, "You know Ron..."  
  
  
  
Hermione's response was interrupted by the loud buzz of purring at their feet. Hermione's cat, Crookshanks, had emerged from wherever he had been hiding to bump up against Ginny's feet, weaving back and forth against her ankles.   
  
  
  
"I missed you, too, Crookshanks," Ginny said immediately. "You're such a big, purry darling."  
  
  
  
She bent to scratch the tips of her fingernails in little circles against the top of his head, and he bumped into her fingers, purring even louder than before.   
  
  
  
"I still can't get over how much he likes you," Hermione said, shaking her head in amazement. "Normally he won't let anyone else touch him."  
  
  
  
"We understand one another, don't we, Crookshanks?" Ginny said matter-of-factly, glancing around the room. The more you looked at it, the more you noticed the cool serenity of the twilight purple walls and crisp white furniture. Bookshelves entirely framed a small student desk and chair, and they were-predictably enough for anyone who'd ever met Hermione-all but overflowing with books, most of them magical in nature. Or...they would have been, if half of them hadn't currently been spread across the blue and purple quilt on the bed. Everything shone with attention and polish. Ginny sighed. She wished her room looked like that-although she certainly didn't wish she had to spend time doing it.  
  
  
  
"Hey, Hermione," Ginny said, stricken by sudden curiosity. "What are those?"  
  
  
  
Hermione craned around to see what Ginny was referring to, and laughed. "Oh, those are called cds-compact disks-they play music."  
  
  
  
"Really?" Ginny said, approaching them, intrigued. "How-do you need all of them?"  
  
  
  
"No, just one at time," Hermione said, obviously amused. "Here, let me show you."  
  
  
  
She walked across the room and picked one of the flat rectangular shapes up, flipping it open almost as if it were a book. Inside was a flat, shiny circle, almost like a silver plate, but as she pulled it out of the container, Ginny saw it had a hole in the middle. Hermione reached over and punched a button on a big, somewhat scary-looking black box, and a little tongue whispered out. She set the disk on the tongue, and hit the button again, and the tongue disappeared. Ginny jumped, eyes widening in surprise. Hermione grinned, and hit another button. Music blossomed into the room.   
  
  
  
"Dad's right," Ginny said a bit faintly, rocking back on her ankles as Crookshanks continued to purr. "It really is remarkable, the way muggles manage without magic...no offense."  
  
  
  
"None taken," Hermione said cheerfully. "What do you think of muggle music, then?"  
  
  
  
"It's pretty good," Ginny said immediately. "I may have to hear some more of it."  
  
  
  
Hermione snickered. "I think that can be arranged," she said.   
  
  
  
"I could listen to this all day," Ginny said several songs later, "but, Hermione, if we don't get home soon, Mum may kill Dad-she was afraid he'd drive your parents wild with a bunch of outrageous questions about what it's like to be a muggle."  
  
  
  
"They'll understand," Hermione said unconcernedly, "I think they're nearly as fascinated with what its like to be a witch or wizard."  
  
  
  
"Well, you can't blame them," Ginny said reasonably, "since their daughter is a witch."  
  
  
  
"True," Hermione agreed with a grin. "Still, I'd hate to get your dad in trouble with your mum." She closed the lid on the trunk. It popped back open again. She closed it again, a little more decisively. It swung open again. She closed it again....  
  
  
  
Several minutes later, Ginny hurled herself onto the lid, throwing her weight against it as insistently as she could. Hermione dived in and fastened it shut with a shout of triumph. Panting with exertion, they both slid down into a heap on the floor. "Thanks," Hermione said eventually.   
  
  
  
"Don't mention it," Ginny said a bit more fervently than necessary.   
  
  
  
Another twenty minutes after that, they finally managed to pry Ginny's dad away from Hermione's parents, and floo home. 


	5. Arrival

Disclaimer--If you like it, assume I don't own it. The Potterverse belongs to JKR, Steve Klowes, Scholastic and WB. Fanon belongs to the multitude...I'm simply paying homage with the sincerest form of flattery. No copyright infringement is intended, and no money is being made.   
  
Author's Notes--For those of you who know my posting habits, you already know posting has been a lot slower in this work (for which I apologize--I've missed our "club"), and it will probably continue to be slower. I really hope you'll make the effort to stick with me anyway. As you all know, I may not own it, but I work hard, and I love it, so if you read it and enjoy it, please review it!   
  
Lady Siri--I appreciate reviews whenever I get them--I definitely understand that I can't have them all the time...so long as I get them once in a while. *winks* I'm glad you liked it. The "Club" is simply the group of all the dedicated reviewers who discuss the story like a book club. We have a lot of fun, and I think we make good friends. :-)  
  
Raiining--I think it's interesting to see them interacting, too...you know they must from the books, but you never see it...It makes me very, very curious...*grins* Hmm...interesting question--Who knows Ginny best? My gut instinct would be to say Remus Lupin...he knows a lot of the secrets she can't or won't share with anyone else...but her brothers (except Ron and Percy) all seem pretty on the mark...I wouldn't think Neville knows her best, because she's very private, and he's very shy, but that doesn't mean he doesn't love her just as much. Luna...can be perceptive in her own way, but is too abstract to be very involved with Ginny's personality--though she's more interested in Ginny than she would be in almost anyone else, I think. As for Hermione...she might almost tie Lupin...she and Ginny understand one another as girls who stand out, and they have the added connection of caring about a lot of the same people. I'd be interested to know what you and the others think.   
  
Bee11--Yay!! You noticed how Ginny saw the CD as more of a creature than an inanimate machine...I thought that might be a realistic reaction in someone who hadn't seen one before. I'm with you...I don't think Hermione mentioned much about that incident in her second year to her parents..though it probably did cross Ginny's mind when she saw them--you're right, that is scary to contemplate. *shivers*  
  
J.Rhaye--"Simple fascination with the things we take for granted really is like a muggle's fascination with all things magical." What a great observation!! I love it!! You're right...I love the way Arthur looks at everything with childlike wonder...it's truly a great gift, and the world would be a better place if more people had it. I'm glad you think the Hermione/Ginny interactions are getting better...that's as it should be, since their relationship is growing and deepening...I hope I can keep it up! (And they do have to get that "sister" thing down, don't they? *winks*) As for Crookshanks, he's extremely bright, and most cats do seem to have a sense for...sympathetic humans. *grins* *hugs*  
  
EEDOE--"She was the explosive fireball and he was the soothing calming balm. She ran the house weilding a wooden spoon, he got his point across with a subtle word or a look. She is the over protective tyrant, he's the over indulgent softy. But when push comes to shove, don't get in Arthur's way because he'll battle to death to protect those he loves. And if your hurt Molly with be the most loving, nurturing figure you can always turn to." I couldn't summarize it better in a million years. That's what I love about them too...the balance that works--it's good chemistry. (which might explain the 7 kids *winks*) I'm glad you liked Hermione's parents' names. *does happy dance* I just picked the first soothing names that came to mind and sounded appropriately British. You got Hermione and Ginny's relationship in one, too. *giggles* I'm doing my best to get it right, so I appreciate the praise. *winks* I thought Ginny's reaction to the cd player was pretty adorable too. *grins* Until next time. *hugs*  
  
Bill--Yup...Ron is a perfect example of why I'm utterly convinced romance is nearly--if not quite--an unrealistic expectation. *winks* I think you have the answer...OF COURSE Hermione has the strength of a female weight-lifter--she is! *grins* Those classes sound like a great idea...and I'm not entirely sure the luggage ISN'T a conspiracy...Glad to hear from you. *hugs*   
  
*****************************************************************************************************************************  
  
"AR-THUR WEASLEY," Mum bellowed, making Hermione drop her trunk so that it clattered across the floor. Ginny winced, half-expecting it to burst open and scatter a small library across the floor. "WHERE HAVE YOU BEEN?"  
  
  
  
"Picking up Hermione, dear," Dad said, not quite pulling it off, "you knew that."  
  
  
  
"I ALSO KNOW IT DOESN'T TAKE THREE-QUARTERS OF AN HOUR TO 'POP IN AND OUT AGAIN'-YOU HAVEN'T BEEN CROSS-EXAMINING THE GRANGERS HAVE YOU?" The look on Dad's face obviously gave him away, because she scarcely paused to draw breath before reproaching him, "OH, ARTHUR, REALLY! I DON'T KNOW WHAT THEY MUST THINK OF US--"  
  
  
  
"Actually, Mrs. Weasley," Hermione said hesitantly, "I think they enjoyed it."  
  
  
  
"Oh, hello, Hermione dear," Mum said kindly. "How nice to see you again. I hope you're looking forward to the World Cup?"  
  
  
  
"It should be fascinating," Hermione said immediately. "I've been reading up on the subject-did you know that--"  
  
  
  
"Dad!" Ron interrupted, bounding into the room. "Where have you been? We're late to pick up Harry!" He paused, glanced over his shoulder in their direction, turned back to Dad, glanced in their direction again, and grinned. "Oh, hey, Hermione! Good to see you!"  
  
  
  
"And that reminds me," Mum said in a tone that bordered on dangerous, wheeling back toward Dad, "just what kind of impression do you think you're making on the...Dursleys...and Harry, being late as if you weren't concerned about wasting their time?"  
  
  
  
"Want some help carrying your trunk upstairs?" Ron asked Hermione hastily. "You'll be staying in Ginny's room-I hope that's okay?"  
  
  
  
Hermione glanced over at Ginny, irritation, amusement, and affectionate forbearance swirling in the expression. "I think we'll be able to manage," she said dryly.   
  
  
  
"That's the spirit," Ron said pluckily, wrestling the trunk in the direction of the stairs as the sound of Mum and Dad's argument trailed behind them. "Ginny's not so bad."  
  
  
  
"Ooh, Ron stop," Ginny crooned. "The flattery might go to my head."   
  
  
  
"Well," Ron said, ignoring her, "here you are...I'll leave you to get settled while we run and get Harry-shouldn't be long."  
  
  
  
Ginny had a momentary thought of demanding to go along, but she knew Harry wasn't comfortable with his relatives, and she didn't want to put him in an awkward position by gawking at him in a situation that might embarrass him...and, anyway, she could hear Ron shouting at Fred and George to get a move on, and the presence of the whole family seemed a bit excessive. As much as she wanted to see Harry, Ginny could wait. She knew she would always want to see him, no matter how long it took...and, for some reason, she trusted him to eventually come to her. Hermione must have felt the same, because she didn't raise a single protest.  
  
Ginny and Hermione collapsed on the bed.  
  
  
  
"Ron didn't miss me at all, did he?" Hermione sighed after several minutes of staring at the ceiling. "Sometimes I think he's really only friends with me to humor Harry…I mean, he hardly ever notices me except to criticize or start some sort of argument, and we really don't have much in common--"  
  
  
  
Ginny raised up on one elbow to stare at her until she trailed off into uncertain silence. "Ron's a prat," she said succinctly, and waited a beat before adding, "But that doesn't mean he doesn't care about you-my brothers pick on me constantly, but they wouldn't let anyone else get away with it."  
  
  
  
"Ron does stand up for me…" Hermione mused.  
  
  
  
"At least he talks to you," Ginny added wryly. "Even if it is to argue--"  
  
  
  
"Ron and Harry want to include you," Hermione said firmly. "They just don't know it yet," she added a bit weakly at Ginny's skeptical expression.   
  
  
  
"Ooh," Ginny crooned, "brilliant. My problems are solved, in that case."  
  
  
  
A second later, a pillow came crashing down on her head. Sputtering, Ginny struggled free of the smothering weight, to stare somewhat dazedly at Hermione. "Was that-? Did you just--? You hit me with a pillow? What--?"  
  
  
  
"Your problems would be solved, if you would just make them realize it," Hermione said primly.   
  
  
  
Ginny snorted. "If I have to make them realize it, I'm not sure it would really be what I wanted, you know?"  
  
  
  
"Kind-of," Hermione said, with a far-away look that said she was reaching for an idea.   
  
  
  
As if on cue, they both sighed.  
  
  
  
"Come on," Ginny said resignedly, "I'll introduce you to my older brothers."  
  
  
  
"Don't I know them already?" Hermione asked archly.  
  
  
  
"Very funny," Ginny grinned.  
  
  
  
They met Mum at the top of the stairs. "Hello, girls," she said brightly. "Having fun, are we?"  
  
  
  
Ginny caught herself in the middle of rolling her eyes. Mum didn't seem to notice. "I was just putting new sheets on Ron's extra bed," she explained. "I'm sure the old ones must have been musty-he never remembers to ai--"  
  
  
  
The end of her sentence was drowned out in a sudden burst of raucous and highly infectious laughter from the kitchen. Hermione looked at Ginny. Ginny looked at Hermione and shrugged.   
  
  
  
The laughter was followed by the sound of shouting, but, for once-oddly-it wasn't coming from Mum. Ginny picked up the pace, suddenly curious...she could hardly recognize the sound of Dad's voice, he raised it so seldom...what had upset him now, she couldn't imagine, but she suspected it had something to do with the twins-it usually did.   
  
  
  
The first thing Ginny saw as she slid into the kitchen was Harry Potter...she didn't even have to look for him. The contact, like a greeting between old and familiar friends, was so comfortable, and so right, Ginny couldn't help grinning at him, in spite of the sudden surge of doxies in her stomach. To her surprise, Harry grinned back, the expression lighting up his whole face so her knees felt weak, a reaction that made her face burn predictably. Luckily, her family was there to provide a distraction.   
  
  
  
"Tell me what, Arthur?" Mum's tone made it clear she was asking for the first time.   
  
  
  
"It's nothing Molly," Dad said awkwardly. "Fred and George just-but I've had words with them-"  
  
  
  
"What have they done this time? If it's got anything to do with Weasley's Wizard Wheezes--"  
  
  
  
"Why don't you show Harry where you're sleeping, Ron?" Hermione interjected. Ginny was impressed by her quick thinking.   
  
  
  
"He knows where he's sleeping," Ron said, "in my room. He slept there last-"  
  
  
  
"We can all go." Hermione said a bit more forcefully, exaggerating her expression.  
  
  
  
"Oh, right," Ron said, a little too brightly.   
  
  
  
"Yeah, we'll come too," George said quickly.   
  
  
  
"You stay where you are," Mum snarled.   
  
  
  
Without further encouragement, Harry headed for the relative calm upstairs, Ron, Hermione, and Ginny not far behind. 


	6. Since Last They Met

Disclaimer--If you like it, assume I don't own it. The Potterverse belongs to JKR, Steve Klowes, Scholastic and WB. Fanon belongs to the multitude...I'm simply paying homage with the sincerest form of flattery. Most of this scene is from GoF by JK Rowling. No copyright infringement is intended, and no money is being made.   
  
Author's Notes-- For those of you who know my posting habits, a warning progress may be a lot slower in this work. I really hope you'll make the effort to stick with me anyway. As you all know, I may not own it, but I work hard, and I love it, so if you read it and enjoy it, please review it!   
  
Ranting Idiot--It's okay you didn't review sooner...I'm interested in what you have to say, not how fast you say it! And it was certainly worth the wait...you have me glowing. *grins sheepishly* Since this is supposed to be Ginny's pov of Harry's world, I think it's important--and a lot of fun--to make what we discover more or less in accord with what we know...It's nice to know you're noticing and appreciating that. :-D  
  
Bee11--I like the Hermione and Ginny interaction, too, it gives both characters a chance to be seen completely free of Harry's expectations and assumptions (not that those are wrong or bad, but assumptions of any sort limit depth), and tell us a lot about themselves. You nailed it--Ginny's wistful comment that "at least he talks to you" could be, and probably is, as much or more about Ron than it is about Harry, though it is almost definitely about both. Poor Hermione is in the middle, being, as usual, way ahead of Ron and Harry in figuring out what needs to be done, but she's handling it quite well, uncomfortable as it has to be. And, yes, Patience is a virtue, but--as Ginny is learning--a very painful one at times! Very insightful review! *hugs*  
  
J. Rhaye--There are always new things to discover in the books...or new ways to read the things you've already found...that's one of the reasons they are--and probably always will be--such an incredibly popular series. They grow and change with you as you grow and change. So I know you'll enjoy re-reading them when you get the chance. *winks* *laughs* Yeah..."Ron's a prat" or therebaouts, is the standard form for any discussion girls have concerning guys, don't you think? *grins and winks* I'm glad you enjoyed the moment...I'm a hopeless romantic, and try to stick them in wherever I can. *looks sheepish* I agree...it is nice to see Hermione loosening up, and that Ginny knows things about her the boys don't...and pretty realistic...women are always different with their female friends than they are with their male ones, I think...at least to a certain extent. *hugs*  
  
EEDOE--Awwww...poor thing! I hate it when I've poored a lot of time and energy and excitement into something and the computer swallows it into an ether abyss. *hugs* I'm glad you enjoyed the chapter...hope your curses made you feel better! *hugs again*  
  
Bill--I agree...all that yelling would be sure to make me a constant jumpy wreck like Quirrell...I would think both your comments about Ginny's trust in Harry could be considered correct...I guess we'll have to wait and see for sure. *winks* Insightful as always--Hermione's relationship with Ron is the oppostite end of the spectrum from Ginny's with Harry, but the girls' feelings are very similar. Interesting development, don't you think? And, like you, I think Ginny and Hermione are very good for one another--kind of like a lot of people in the club! *winks* *hugs*  
  
********************************************************************************************  
  
"What are Weasley's Wizard Wheezes?" Harry asked as they climbed the crooked, winding stair.   
  
  
  
Ron's eyes met Ginny's in a flash of blue as they both laughed. For one brief second, they were as close as they had been before he started school. "Mum found this stack of order forms when she was cleaning Fred and George's room," Ron explained. "Great long price lists for the stuff they've invented. Joke stuff, you know. Fake wands and trick sweets, loads of stuff. It was brilliant-I never knew they'd been inventing all that..."  
  
  
  
"We've been hearing explosions out of their room for ages," Ginny said, picking up the end of his sentence just as she used to do, "but we never thought they were actually making things-we thought they just liked the noise."  
  
  
  
"Only most of the stuff-well, all of it, really-was a bit dangerous," Ron added. "And, you know, they were planning to sell it at Hogwarts to make money, and Mum went mad at them. Told them they weren't allowed to make any more of it, and burned all their order forms...She's furious at them anyway. They didn't get as many O.W.L.S. as she expected."  
  
  
  
"And then," Ginny concluded, rolling her eyes, as Mum really ought to have known better to begin with, "there was this big row, because Mum wants them to go into the Ministry of Magic like Dad, and all they want to do is open a joke shop."  
  
  
  
The last word of this sentence wobbled dangerously, as Ginny stopped short, tilting dangerously forward in the effort to avoid colliding with Percy, who had just burst out of his bedroom door and into the hall in front of her. On either side of her, Harry and Ron each absent-mindedly reached out a hand to catch her, neither one taking their eyes off Percy.   
  
  
  
"Hi, Percy," Harry said.  
  
  
  
"Oh, hello, Harry," Percy said as if he'd just noticed his presence. "I was wondering who was making all the noise."  
  
  
  
Ginny snorted, but Percy ignored her and no one else seemed to notice as he went on, "I'm trying to work in here, you know-I've got a report to finish up for the office-and it's rather difficult to concentrate when people keep thundering up and down the stairs."  
  
  
  
//If it bothers you so much, why don't you charm your walls to be soundproof?// Ginny wondered derisively, a thought she must have had at least half a dozen times before. "We're not thundering," Ron snapped, making it clear she wasn't alone, "we're walking. Sorry if we've disturbed the top-secret workings of the Ministry of Magic."  
  
  
  
"What are you working on?" Harry asked, and Ginny suppressed the urge to elbow him hard in the side. At least Percy should be happy-he'd just gotten what he wanted.  
  
  
  
"A report for the Department of International Magical Cooperation," preened Percy. "We're trying to standardize cauldron thickness. Some of these foreign imports are just a shade too thin-leakages have been increasing at a rate of almost three percent per year--"  
  
  
  
"That'll change the world, that report will," Ron interrupted impatiently. "Front page of the "Daily Prophet", I expect, cauldron leaks."  
  
  
  
Ginny couldn't remember the last time she had really seen Percy blush...probably around the time she'd first discovered he was dating Penelope Clearwater, a Ravenclaw Prefect. "You might sneer, Ron, but unless some sort of international standard is imposed we might well find the market flooded with flimsy, shallow-bottomed products that seriously endanger--"  
  
  
  
"Yeah, yeah," sighed Ron, shaking his head, "alright." He started upstairs again as Percy ducked into his room and out of the way, slamming the door so the floor vibrated beneath them as they passed. Shouts rose like a plume of smoke from the kitchen. Mum had finally exploded.   
  
  
  
Ginny squinted as they came into the orange brilliance of Ron's slope-roofed bedroom, the Chudley Cannons waving at them from every available surface. The fat frog in the tank on the windowsill croaked a companionable hello, a sound she'd always found rather cozy, and Ron's owl-an adorable little ball of feathers and fluff he'd never fully explained how he'd come by-hopped and bounced in his cage like an excitable puppy. Ginny much preferred them both to the late, and not overly lamented-by anyone but Ron at any rate...and even he hadn't mentioned him in months-rat, Scabbers.  
  
  
  
"Shut up, Pig," Ron commanded, squeezing between the extra beds that had been added to the usual two. "Fred and George are in here with us, because Bill and Charlie are in their room," he said, by way of explanation, to Harry. "Percy gets to keep his room all to himself because he's got to work."  
  
  
  
"Er," Harry said, as if trying to decide what to comment on first. "Why are you calling that owl Pig?"  
  
  
  
"Because he's being stupid," Ginny answered immediately, throwing a quelling look at Ron. "Its proper name is Pigwidgeon." //And it has been ever since I got off the train to find you with an owl you didn't have when I got on...//  
  
  
  
"Yeah and that's not a stupid name at all," Ron snapped sarcastically.  
  
  
  
//Well, maybe if you'd named him when you got him//-Ginny thought huffily, as Ron continued, "Ginny named him-she reckons it sweet." //It is//, Ginny insisted silently, crossing her arms and perfecting her unnoticed glare. //But I didn't mean to name him that...he's just so cute, and when I saw him, so tiny and fluffy and full of energy, it just sort of came out-"Oh, what a dear little pigwidgeon you are" because I've always liked the word pigwidgeon and what it means...Anyway, it suits him-he is a little duck-he's so plucky and affectionate and full of energy.// "And I tried to change it, but he wouldn't answer to anything else--" //Which just goes to prove I'm not the only one who thinks it suits him.// "-So now he's Pig. I've got to keep him up here because he annoys Errol and Hermes. He annoys me, too, come to that." //And he loves every minute of it.// But Ginny was sure from his expression Harry already knew that.   
  
  
  
"Where's Crookshanks?" he asked Hermione.  
  
  
  
"Out in the garden, I expect," she said indulgently. "He likes chasing gnomes-he's never seen any before." Ginny and Hermione had seen them from her bedroom window. The gnomes liked it too-they would often stop and look over their shoulders to see if he was following, and if he was, kick up their heels and scamper off, squealing madly. Just watching it made Ginny want to giggle like mad. She grinned to herself at the memory as Harry sat on one of the beds. 


	7. Dinner at Home

Disclaimer--If you like it, assume I don't own it. The Potterverse belongs to JKR, Steve Klowes, Scholastic and WB. Fanon belongs to the multitude...I'm simply paying homage with the sincerest form of flattery. Most of this scene is from GoF by JK Rowling. No copyright infringement is intended, and no money is being made.   
  
Author's Notes-- For those of you who know my posting habits, a warning progress may be a lot slower in this work. I really hope you'll make the effort to stick with me anyway. As you all know, I may not own it, but I work hard, and I love it, so if you read it and enjoy it, please review it!   
  
Dolphingirl79--Thanks! I'm glad you enjoyed it! Yes, I am trying to write the series from Ginny's POV. I currently have Ginny's POV for CoS and PoA posted on Fanfic.net if you haven't seen them yet. Hope to hear from you again.   
  
Raiining--It is a bit odd that Ron's family didn't know about Pig, but how could he explain the real story without explaining everything else he knew about Sirius Black? He could tell his parents "a friend" gave him Pig, or simply that he got him as a replacement when Scabbers "died"--they didn't know he didn't have him when he got on the train, so they might not think to ask many questions. As for why Ginny and the twins don't...call it sibling solidarity. *winks* I imagine she'll find out as soon as her Mum knows about Sirius Black, if not before. *grins* I totally agree...all those little details Harry doesn't notice about other characters ARE fanfiction...AND a lot of fun! :-D We'll have to wait and see if I finish book 5 before book 6 comes out...I rather hope we don't have to wait long...whether I write originals or just wait to continue Ginny's POV depends on Real Life and the Muse, both of which are highly variable! Great questions!  
  
Ranting Idiot--Molly is smoke in a bottle, don't you think? *winks* I don't think the Weasleys (on the whole) know about Sirius Black and/or Peter Pettigrew yet...hopefully I will get to write a scene where they find out in the future. I, like you, have always found that a fairly interesting prospect. Ginny does know something is up, but not what...and as to when she does figure it out, I don't know that! *laughs sheepishly* You're right...that should a fun scene as well! *winks* I like Ginny curious and a little more observant than people think...it's nice to know I'm not the only one...so I don't think you're rambling at all...I'm glad you told us! *hugs*  
  
J.Rhaye--I hope the inner dialogue seemed smooth and didn't leave people wondering where it came from since it's never really been a major part of the stories before. I have to admit, I really enjoy it! ;-) Yes...I like the way Ron and Harry both protect Ginny without thinking--they don't even notice! True, if Ginny had just let loose and acted on impulse, she'd probably have Harry's attention 5 year instead of Cho...but...true love is best grown into...we must make that our mantra...Glad to have your company! *hugs*  
  
EEDOE--Oh, I agree...a sensitive, high-strung little girl is much more likely to notice the change in a brother-sister relationship than her sweet but somewhat oblivious--and, in his defense, very busy--older brother. *sigh* Exactly! You've gotta love the instinct! *winks* Boy, have you ever nailed my idea of Percy! *giggles* I'm loving Ginny's inner dialogue myself! *winks* And the cat chasing gnomes...makes me wish I was one! Now...I'm back to your favorite piece of eye candy, myself! *winks* Thanks! *hugs*  
  
Bill--I'm a great fan of dry, cynical and/or sarcastic humor...and no one does it like the British. Too few fanfics captalize on that. *winks* Oh...I love it when you point out little stylistic devices you like! *beams* Your comment about the Burrow nearly had me in gales of laughter...so true, so true! I suspect Ginny and the twins never mentioned the fact Ron didn't have the owl when he left school...so Molly is willing to accept whatever vague explanation she's given...after all, Dumbledore would know if anything TOO weird had occurred...*winks* But...I'll try to be more careful about pointing out such nagging little questions in the future. *snickers and winks* *hugs*   
  
*****************************************************************************************************************************  
  
"Percy's enjoying work, then?"  
  
  
  
"Enjoying it?" repeated Ron. "I don't reckon he'd come home if Dad didn't make him. He's obsessed. Just don't get him onto the subject of his boss. According to Mr. Crouch...as I was saying to Mr. Crouch...Mr. Crouch is of the opinion...Mr. Crouch was telling me...They'll be announcing their engagement any day now."  
  
  
  
"Have you had a good summer, Harry?" Hermione interjected. "Did you get our food parcels and everything?"  
  
  
  
Ginny had been wondering about that too-a couple of weeks into the summer, Ron had gotten a letter from Harry announcing his cousin-Dud?-had to go on a diet and he wasn't sure he'd survive without supplies. Ginny herself had helped Mum with a batch of meat pies...as much as she hated to admit, she'd spent a lot of her summer picturing Harry enjoying them. Not to mention the birthday cake she'd helped to bake.  
  
  
  
"Yeah, thanks a lot," Harry said fervently. "They saved my life, those cakes." Ginny knew the remark wasn't directed at her, she felt her face heat just the same. She couldn't help feeling as if everything about Harry somehow belonged to her...She broke off abruptly in the middle of her reverie, her blush deepening.   
  
  
  
Perhaps because she was embarrassed, she felt more than usually aware of Ron's next question "And have you heard from--"   
  
  
  
Hermione was looking at him with a warning expression, Harry looked tense and very conscious of something, and the tops of Ron's ears were reddening. All for what Ginny would have considered to be a fairly innocuous question...after all, Ron could have been asking about any of a dozen classmates...none of whom he should hesitate to name in front of Ginny. Ron was definitely hiding something more than his owl's origin-Ginny had suspected as much ever since he'd somehow ended up in the hospital wing with a broken leg the day after Professor Lupin had somehow discovered Sirius Black was innocent...She even wondered if Lupin hadn't nearly mentioned Harry's involvement-Harry certainly hadn't seemed worried about Black supposedly being after him since then-and now, studying the look the inseparable trio exchanged, Ginny wondered if this didn't have something to do with that...Could Harry be in contact with his godfather, Sirius Black?  
  
  
  
She opened her mouth to ask, hardly stopping to wonder how she was going to explain how she knew about Black-"I think they've stopped arguing," Hermione said. "Shall we go down and help your mum with dinner?" Ginny scowled in her direction, a bit disgruntled at loosing her chance to catch Harry and Ron's attention, but already thinking better of it.  
  
  
  
"Yeah, all right," Ron agreed with a last look at Harry.   
  
  
  
Mum was, indeed, starting dinner, wearing an annoyed expression Ginny found relatively mild. "We're eating out in the garden," she said shortly. "There's just not room for eleven people in here. Could you take the plates outside, girls? Bill and Charlie are setting up the tables. Knives and forks, please, you two," she added to Ron and Harry, shooting potatoes from their skins so they ricocheted around the kitchen, forcing Ginny to duck in order to keep her head.   
  
  
  
"Oh, for heaven's sake!" Mum waved her wand with a violent flourish, and the dustpan and broom skidded into service, sweeping up the debris. "Thos two!" Pots and pans banged loud punctuation as Mum slammed them on the counter. "I don't know what's going to happen to them, I really don't."  
  
  
  
Ginny did. They were going to open a joke shop and be a huge success. Somehow, though, she didn't think Mum wanted to hear that.   
  
  
  
"No ambition, unless you count making as much trouble as they possibly can..."  
  
  
  
But Mum hadn't seen their business plan.   
  
  
  
She slammed a pan onto the table and began to conjure sauce inside. "It's not as though they haven't got brains," she transferred the pot to the stove, and jabbed the burner to life. "But they're wasting them, and unless they pull themselves together soon, they'll be in real trouble." Ginny might have agreed, if she hadn't known the twins were pulled together already...they knew exactly where they wanted to be, and had a pretty good idea of how they were going to get there...if only Mum would listen...Mum meant well, but she just liked what worked, and she didn't want to consider anything else...it was as if she thought the less things changed, the safer they were. But the twins, like a lot of artists, had very little use for doing things predictably or feeling safe.  
  
  
  
"I don't know what went wrong with them," Mum muttered violently, shaking her head. "It's been the same thing for years, one thing after another, and they won't listen to--"   
  
//Runs in the family//, Ginny thought, her lips twisting wryly, as she followed Hermione out the back door. "OH NO-NOT AGAIN!" she heard Mum shout as the door swung shut behind her.  
  
She wondered what she had missed, but the garden was hardly short on entertainment. Crookshanks was indeed still chasing gnomes, who darted past, kicking their feet outrageously high, giggling madly, as Crookshanks bounded behind, emitting little cackling purrs. As if that weren't enough, Bill and George had just enchanted each of their tables to fly and were holding a demolition derby several feet in the air, competing to knock them out of the air. "That can't be a good idea," Hermione protested primly, "the muggles in the village are sure to hear something-what if they see?"  
  
"They won't," Bill assured her with a shrug, "we're hidden by the trees." He pointed at the ancient stand of old and very bushy fir trees bordering the garden on that side.   
  
Hermione glanced that direction and subsided, but she was pale as she glanced up at the tables dueling in the air. Clearly, she thought it was dangerous and inadvisable just the same.   
  
Ginny had to admit she was probably right, but Bill and Charlie had been doing this sort of thing for years, and no one had ever been seriously hurt. Fred and George, free of all such concerns, were cheering wildly, making up the most outrageous and disgusting chants they could, and Ginny couldn't help laughing at some of the lyrics.   
  
Bill's table knocked the leg off Charlie's with a loud bang, prompting a new burst of whistles and cheers from Fred and George, and handwringing from Hermione. A window clattered open, and Percy's head thrust into view, wearing a peeved expression that made him look unsettlingly like Mum. "Will you keep it down!"  
  
"Sorry, Perce," Bill grinned, sounding not sorry at all. Ginny grinned too. "How are the cauldron bottoms coming on?"  
  
"Very badly," Percy snapped, slamming the window shut.  
  
Bill and Charlie both chuckled, but guided their tables to land just the same. Bill reattached the broken leg and conjured tablecloths, and Ginny and Hermione walked around them setting down plates, followed by Harry and Ron with the silverware. Charlie and the twins had already gone in to carry out the first of Mum's dishes, so the tables were packed in no time at all.   
  
Ginny sat on the long, low bench between Bill and Hermione, passing dishes for what seemed like ages, as everyone took helpings of chicken and ham pie, boiled potatoes, and salad. Ginny watched the sky darken from a bright, almost unrealistic blue, to a deep rich shade of velvety blue-violet, drinking in the summer air that drifted balmily about them. She was vaguely aware of Percy at the head of the other bench, giving Dad his usual speech about cauldron bottoms.   
  
Bill was talking to Charlie-who sat across from him-about ways Gringotts could make the use of dragons more feasible. Ginny wasn't exactly sure how or when Mum got involved...the next thing she knew, Mum was eyeing Bill's hair-which looked quite sleek and dangerous in its shoulder-length ponytail-with a dangerous gleam in her eye. "I wish you'd let me give it a trim..."  
  
"I like it," Ginny said pertly. "You're so old-fashioned Mum." She nearly added, but didn't, that she was sure it was the result of the fashion article she'd sent Bill from "Witch Weekly" a few weeks before...it had suggested witches found an edge sexy and exciting. "Anyway, it's nowhere near as long as Dumbledore's," she added, with a wink at Bill.  
  
Charlie had been sidetracked into Fred and George's conversation about the upcoming Quidditch Cup. Every time she thought about it, Ginny's skin tingled. "'Sgot to be Ireland," Charlie asserted through his potatoes.   
  
"Bulgaria has got Viktor Krum, though," Fred said, exchanging a speculative look with George that made Ginny slightly nervous. She glanced around to see if anyone else had noticed, but it didn't look as though they had.   
  
"Krum's one decent player," Charlie said. "Ireland has seven. I wish England had got through. That was embarrassing, that was."  
  
"What happened?" Harry demanded, and the eager excitement in his voice made Ginny's stomach soar up into her throat so the backs of her eyes stung.   
  
"Went down to Transylvania, three hundred and ninety to ten," Charlie informed him. "Shocking performance. And Wales lost to Uganda, and Scotland was slaughtered by Luxembourg."  
  
Mum waved candles like clouds of tame fireflies to light the garden, as they had their strawberry ice cream. Ron glanced up the table. Ginny, curiousity piqued, pretended to be absorbed in the advice Mum was giving Charlie in the care of the burns still-healing on his hands, ears perked in his direction.  
  
"So...heard...Sirius...tly?" she heard Ron whisper.  
  
She felt a tingle of vindication surge along her spine.   
  
"...ice," Harry murmured. "...ounds...ay...I...ote...yesterday...he...back...here..."  
  
Ginny froze, frowning slightly. Was Sirius back in the area? That wasn't a good idea-the whole ministry was looking for him. Somehow, she would have to write and warn Lupin ...but didn't he already know his friend had to be careful?  
  
"Look at the time," Mum said. "You really should be in bed, the whole lot of you-you'll be up at the crack of dawn to get to the cup." Ginny winced. She hated mornings. "Harry, if you leave your school list out, I'll get your things tomorrow in Diagon Alley. I'm getting everyone else's. There may not be time after the World Cup, the match went on for five days last time."  
  
"Wow-hope it does this time!" Harry enthused. Ginny grinned.   
  
"Well, I certainly don't," Percy sniffed. "I shudder to think what the state of my in-tray would be if I was away from work for five days."  
  
Ginny rolled her eyes and went to bed. 


	8. A Long Hike

Disclaimer--If you like it, assume I don't own it. The Potterverse belongs to JKR, Steve Klowes, Scholastic and WB. Fanon belongs to the multitude...I'm simply paying homage with the sincerest form of flattery. Most of this scene is from GoF by JK Rowling. No copyright infringement is intended, and no money is being made.   
  
Author's Notes-- For those of you who know my posting habits, a warning progress may be a lot slower in this work. I really hope you'll make the effort to stick with me anyway. As you all know, I may not own it, but I work hard, and I love it, so if you read it and enjoy it, please review it!   
  
Raiining--Ginny's figured out a lot about Sirius Black, but not everything...not yet. ;-) Her reaction to the events at the Quidditch cup should be VERY interesting, I agree...*muses* I won't ruin the surprise for you...it's much more fun to discover it with the character! Thanks for the luck...I'll give it to my sister, who does have school exams coming up. :-D  
  
J. Rhaye--Absolutely...we grow and mature, but we never loose that essence that is who we are. *winks* That's one of the great things about story-telling! I couldn't have put Ginny's feelings about Harry better myself...love is that constant and incredibly mutable thing we spend our whole lives learning about and never completely define...and anyone we love--truly and completely love--always belongs to us and is with us in some small way for the rest of our lives, no matter what may come. It's amazing! As is Ginny...as you say, she's quite perceptive about all sorts of things the other characters don't seem to notice...and that is what makes her such an interesting and likeable character! Great review! *hugs*  
  
EEDOE--That line is absolutely a classic. *winks* I imagine Ginny helps her Mum in the kitchen quite a bit with so many boys to feed...and if she knew it was for Harry, I'm sure she couldn't be kept away! *laughs* I can relate to the urge to scream, but I rather suspect the plot holes are deliberate and completely within the framework of Harry's viewpoint...he is, after all, a boy, however remarkable, and can't be expected to notice EVERYTHING. *winks* I'm afraid I can't take credit for the genius of Molly Weasley, much as I might like too...that is pure JK. *sighs* But I'll be satisfied that you liked my little add-in line about Bill, Charlie, and the tables! *grins* I love that image of Fred and George myself...it seems...very reminiscent of something...or someone...maybe a pirate...*coughs* I love writing about nature...it always lends itself to endless artistic imagery...you could play with poetic phrases forever and not quite do it justice. Ooh...Molly's reaction *goes into gales of laughter and takes several minutes to recover enough to continue typing* And her brothers! Especially the twins and Percy! *claps* I LOVe the way your mind works *winks* Yes, the best love is like that...you hate it and you love it and you love hating it and you hate loving it...*smirks and sighs* *laughs* I love a good eye roll *winks* Can't wait to hear your thoughts next time! *hugs*   
  
Bill--You're making me blush! *grins and lowers lashes shyly* I think one of the coolest things about the HP revolution is the way it introduces so many generations to the British sense of humour and extended language and expression they've never appreciated! *laughs* The truth is men aren't the only ones who are terrorital--often times, they may not even be the best ones...there is NOTHING to compare to a woman's protective instinct applied to those they love (not just children, as most often acknowledged) *grins and shrugs* Yes, Hermione did have some bad timing there...but I suspect she also had the best of intentions...and Ginny wasn't ready to explain her relationship with Lupin anyway, even if I agree it probably would have impressed Harry. *sighs* Intimacy is much like a potion...it takes time, patience, balance...and, above all, subtlety to make it come out right in the end. EXACTLY--I agree with you about Molly. She means well, but her limited viewpoint causes more harm than good. *winces* Yes, *grins* Ginny appreciates fine art! *laughs* Ginny's interaction with Bill is one of my favorite moments as well...I agree that she will mature to be much like a balance between Bill and the twins, though always with her own twist. *winks* Hmm...perhaps Ginny would make a good Auror, but I wonder if she isn't a bit too subtle for such straightforward goals...perhaps the Department of Mysteries...although, she works best independently...Thanks for so much to think about...I love playing with ideas. *smirks and winks* *hugs*   
  
**********************************************************************************************************************  
  
Mum's hand on her shoulder woke her the next morning. "Time to go, dear." Ginny groaned and tried to roll over, only to realize something was at the bottom of the bed, weighting her feet down. Several dazed seconds of foot wiggling later, she noticed it was vibrating slightly, almost like a purr. Raising up a sliver, she could see a puddle of ginger fur spread across her feet. Crookshanks. "Awww...you're so cute," she crooned, stretching as far as she could, and just barely managing to brush the tips of her finger across the top of his fur. "I wish I had a cat like you."  
  
"Good morning, Ginny," Hermione mumbled sleepily, sitting up next to her in the bed. "Good morning, Crookshanks." She reached down and scratched briefly between his ears. "Sweet kitty."  
  
"We appreciate the attention," Ginny added politely, "but could you let us up now? We're sort of on a schedule."  
  
Crookshanks opened one yellow eye, surveyed them unblinkingly, then jumped to the floor.   
  
"Thank you?" Ginny said hesitantly.  
  
Crookshanks purred, and stalked from the room, brushy tail held high.  
  
Ginny struggled groggily into the worn blue jeans and fuzzy white sweater Hermione had helped her pick out the night before. She laced up her black and white sneakers over the orange socks she'd stolen from Percy, and wrapped the old filmy green scarf she'd found around her neck. She swayed drowsily at the foot of the bed, waiting on Hermione to finish dressing, and they stumbled downstairs and into the kitchen together.   
  
Fred, George, Ron and Harry were already there with Mum and Dad. Harry looked incredibly appealing in the too-large jeans lashed to his frame with a worn black belt and thick sweater-which looked a lot like one of Mum's Weasley sweaters-his dark hair rumpled all across his temples, his emerald eyes shining with anticipation. Ginny was almost too tired to notice. She had to rub her eyes to clear her vision. "Why do we have to be up so early?" She sat next to him with a heavy thump, and reached for the coffee pot.  
  
"We've got a bit of a walk," Dad said apologetically.  
  
"Walk?" Harry repeated. "What, are we walking to the World Cup?"  
  
"No, no, that's miles away. We just need to walk a short way," Dad assured them at large as Hermione poured cream over her porridge. "It's just that it's very difficult for a large number of wizards to congregate without attracting Muggle attention. We have to be very careful about how we travel at the best of times, and on a huge occasion like the Quidditch World Cup--"  
  
"George!" The sound of Mum's voice made everyone jump. Harry's fingers slid over hers on the tabletop. Ginny yanked her hand hastily away and tried to breathe. "What?" George asked in a poor imitation of innocence.  
  
"What is that in your pocket?"  
  
"Nothing!"  
  
Ginny rolled her eyes. Even without her coffee, she thought she could have come up with something better than that. Mum obviously thought so, too. "Don't you lie to me!" She snapped, pointing her wand at George's pocket. "Accio!"  
  
Several small, brightly colored objects zoomed toward her. George dove after them, too late, and Mum caught them neatly in her hand. "We told you to destroy them," Mum said, glaring at the objects, which looked like the twins' Ton-tongue Toffees. "We told you to get rid of the lot! Empty your pockets, go on, both of you!" The twins started to comply with deliberate slowness, and sensing the upcoming battle, Mum took the more expedient route of repeating the summoning charm she had just used. "Accio! Accio! Accio!" The room was filled with toffees like small and exotic birds emerging from the most unlikely of nesting spots in the twins' clothes.   
  
"We spent sixth months developing those!" Fred shouted desperately as Mum threw them away.   
  
"Oh, a fine way to spend six months! No wonder you didn't get more O.W.L.s!" Ginny yawned, and tried to relax enough to drink her coffee. She managed about half the cup before the twins were hurrying her out the door without a word in Mum's direction.   
  
"Well, have a lovely time," Mum called after them, "and behave yourselves!"  
  
The twins didn't look back or answer. Ginny thought that was a bit mean, but she knew she probably would have done much the same in their situation. She sighed as the rest of the group followed after them.   
  
It was chilly, making her nose and cheeks sting in the air, and the moon hung huge and looming overhead. Ginny usually liked the moon, but instead of silvery and romantic, it looked almost pale and threatening this morning. The horizon was a dull green line in the distance. Next to her, Harry was just a solid dark shadow...but she supposed that was what his presence in her life was usually like. Harry pulled slightly ahead to talk to Dad about how they were going to get to the World Cup. Ginny, too sleepy to hurry, was content to trudge along at Hermione's slower pace, staring vacantly into the space around her and thinking little.   
  
The sky lightened slightly as they trudged through Ottery St. Catchpole, but it didn't get any warmer. Ginny took to holding her hands in front of her face, rubbing them together and breathing across them in spurts as she stamped her feet. In the vague blue light of the early morning, Stoatshead Hill seemed like a vertical climb. Even Harry was out of breath by the time they reached the top, and he was an excellent athlete.   
  
"Whew!" panted Dad, wiping his glasses on his sweater. "Well, we've made good time-we've got ten minutes...Now we just need the Portkey. It won't be big...come on..."  
  
  
  
They had barely begun searching when someone shouted, "Over here, Arthur! Over here, son, we've got it!" There were two tall figures on the other side of the hilltop.   
  
  
  
"Amos!" Dad exclaimed, smiling, and went over to met them, the rest of the group fast on his heels. "This is Amos Diggory, everyone," he said, shaking hands with a ruddy-faced wizard with a scraggly brown beard. Amos Diggory was holding a very decrepit-looking boot in his other hand. "He works for the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures. And I think you know his son, Cedric?" 


	9. Setting Up Camp

Disclaimer--If you like it, assume I don't own it. The Potterverse belongs to JKR, Steve Klowes, Scholastic and WB. Fanon belongs to the multitude...I'm simply paying homage with the sincerest form of flattery. Most of this scene is from GoF by JK Rowling. No copyright infringement is intended, and no money is being made.   
  
Author's Notes-- For those of you who know my posting habits, a warning progress may be a lot slower in this work. I hope you'll make the effort to stick with me anyway. As you all know, I may not own it, but I work hard, and I love it, so if you read it and enjoy it, please review it!   
  
dolphingirl79--I do my best to serve. ;-) Glad to know you're still enjoying it.   
  
Raiining--That line was definitely a bit wistful...but hopefully Ginny will have more fun in the next couple of chapters.  
  
Bee11--You're right--it's embedded in Ginny to notice things about Harry. *grins* You described what I was thinking about Harry's presence very well--I'm impressed! :-) *hugs*  
  
J.Rhaye--That was nice of you *grins* Ginny and I both appreciate it! I'm glad you liked the bit about Crookshanks...I love it when cats do stuff like that. ;-) I wish I could take credit for Ginny's sock-stealing habits (which I love too), but they're a bit of fan-lore that originated in a story called "The Chaser" at Gryffindor Tower. *sighs* Orange is an odd color choice for Percy, but who knows if he doesn't have a very repressed wild side? *snickers and shrugs* Yeah...I wrote that bit with Harry and Ginny's hands especially for you and me...*sighs dreamily* I tried to make the morning as eerie and uncomfortable as I could, but I have to admit I was only following JK's excellent form. *grins sheepishly* Darkness does seem to fall over Harry toward the end of Book 4 and throughout Book 5, which Ginny is probably subconsciously aware of, but I don't think darkness is what reminds her of a shadow so much as insubstantiality, if that makes sense. *winks* *hugs*  
  
EEDOE--Very good point about Molly...she does have quite a nice warm and tender side. I hadn't thought about Ginny's flexibility *grins*, but maybe she is having trouble because her limbs are still all heavy with sleep. She also might (as Bill suggests) be short and still have long legs (I do *grins wryly*). You think Ginny is a rich character! *looks delighted* Oh, I hope so!! *grins* I liked the quirky orange socks, too, but I still think Percy might wear them when no one was looking! *giggles* It's amazing how sleep, like alcohol, lowers inhibitions, isn't it? Like you, I suspect Ginny will send many hours thinking about that brief moment...and Harry in a burlap sack doesn't sound half bad...*coughs and looks innocent* Yeah...romantic moment! *bounces too* Hmm...*grins* Ginny playing poker...What an interesting idea about Molly's personality as a kid...she does mention a few rebellious moments...I think you're onto something. "Too right she is. He'll always be a constant in the back of her mind. Not only because of her love for him, but because of the life bond they now share."--Hold that thought, it's one of two major interpretations of the title. And almost word for word the way I had it in my head! I'm so amazed and thrilled you nailed it! *BIG HUGS* Exactly--Men! *giggles* Until Next Time...  
  
Bill--I got the impression Ginny's interest in "time" meant something as well...I wonder how it would play into Voldemort's defeat? I hadn't thought about the length of Ginny's legs, but she probably does... I simply wrote something that happens with me and my cat...but my sister teases me that I have "freaky-long legs" in spite of being extremely short. *grins and shrugs* I suppose Percy does usually wear the more restrained and typical socks, but I like the idea of him having something like that completely out of character. ;-) I'm glad everyone loved my little "moment" as much as I did! "Harry is a solid figure in Ginny's life, one of her anchors." Yes, absolutely. Another thing I would say, almost word for word...and, though he doesn't know it yet, I staunchly believe Ginny's presence is equally an anchor to Harry. I hadn't considered the idea that Harry's inability to share his feelings and/or past with others might also be part of that impression, but it makes perfect sense--now that you've brought it up, I can't imagine how I missed it, as it seems quite significant! *looks sheepish* Amos with a string of bad luck...oh, what a great idea...Ginny will window-shop, my friend, as any self-respecting girl would...however...*grins* *hugs*  
  
I LOVE your reviews, guys! Our "club" is so much fun! :-)   
  
*****************************************************************************************************************************  
  
Cedric Diggory was the handsome Hufflepuff Seeker Ginny had described to her friend Luna as overly perfect last year...and he'd beaten Gryffindor at Quidditch. The boys were all looking somewhat less than thrilled to see him. "Hi," Cedric said cheerfully.   
  
  
  
"Hi," Ginny said, somewhat surprised to hear her voice echoed by not only Hermione but Ron and Harry. The twins were sullenly silent, though they did nod politely.   
  
  
  
"Long walk, Arthur?" Cedric's father asked.  
  
  
  
"Not too bad," Dad said. "We live just on the other side of the village there. You?"  
  
  
  
"We had to get up at two didn't we, Ced? I tell you, I'll be glad when he's got his Apparation test. Still...not complaining...Quidditch World Cup, wouldn't miss it for a sackful of galleons-and the tickets cost about that. Mind you, looks like I got off easy..." Amos Diggory assessed the group before him nearly as cheerfully as his son, Cedric. "All these yours, Arthur?"  
  
  
  
"Oh, no," Dad said, "only the redheads. This is Hermione-friend of Ron's-and Harry, another friend--"  
  
  
  
"Merlin's beard! Harry Potter?"  
  
  
  
"Er," Harry shifted uncomfortably from foot to foot. "Yeah..."  
  
  
  
"Ced's talked about you of course," Mr. Diggory said. "Told us all about playing against you last year...I said to him, I said-Ced, that'll be something to tell your grandchildren, that will...You beat Harry Potter!"  
  
  
  
Ginny shot a somewhat disgusted glance in Cedric's direction, knowing without looking that Fred and George were scowling. Cedric had the decency to look embarrassed. He hadn't won because he'd beaten Harry...he'd won because - "Harry fell off his broom, Dad," Cedric muttered uncomfortably. "I told you it was an accident..." //If you can apply the word accident to the presence of dementors//, Ginny thought darkly, but she found herself liking Cedric a little better.   
  
  
  
"Yes, but you didn't fall off, did you?" Mr. Diggory slapped Cedric on the back. "Always modest, our Ced, always the gentleman...but the best man won, I'm sure Harry'd say the same, wouldn't you, eh? One falls off his broom, one stays on, you don't need to be a genius to tell which one's the better flier!"  
  
  
  
Ginny might like Cedric, who looked mildly mortified, but she didn't care for his father...though she supposed it was nice he was so proud of his son...even if it was insulting. But she still didn't like him.   
  
  
  
"Must be nearly time," Dad said hastily. "Do you know whether we're waiting for any more, Amos?"  
  
  
  
"No, the Lovegoods have been there for a week, and the Fawcetts couldn't get tickets," Mr. Diggory replied. "There aren't any more of us in this area, are there?"  
  
  
  
"Not that I know of," Dad agreed. "Yes, it's a minute off...we'd better get ready..." He looked round at Harry and Hermione, neither of whom had ever traveled by Portkey. "You just need to touch the Portkey, that's all, a finger will do--"  
  
  
  
It was bit difficult to press so close with the packs everyone was carrying, but the managed, as Dad counted.   
  
"Three...two...one..." And then the key hooked them, yanking them through time and space, and Ginny slammed into Cedric Diggory and tumbled to the ground. He winced sympathetically and reached out a hand to help her up.   
  
  
  
"Thanks," she whispered a bit breathlessly. He had nice hands, and a strong, warm grip.   
  
  
  
"Seven past five from Stoatshead Hill," said a voice.  
  
  
  
"Morning, Basil," Dad said, handing the boot to a wizard wearing a kilt and a strange triangular piece of fabric that hung around his neck.   
  
  
  
"Hello, there, Arthur," Basil said. "Not on duty, eh? It's all right for some...We've been here all night...You'd better get out of the way, we've got a big party coming in from the Black Forest at five-fifteen. Hang on, I'll find your campsite...Weasley...Weasley..." He ran his finger along a length of parchment. "About a quarter of a mile's walk over there, first field you come to. Site manager's called Mr. Roberts. Diggory...second field...ask for Mr. Payne."  
  
  
  
"Thanks, Basil," Dad said, waving everyone after him.   
  
  
  
They found the campsite without trouble...the tents stretched for miles... "Morning," Dad greeted the muggle at the gate.   
  
  
  
"Morning," said the muggle, a little warily.   
  
  
  
"Would you be Mr. Roberts?  
  
  
  
"Aye, I would. And who are you?"  
  
  
  
"Weasley-two tents, booked a couple of days ago?"  
  
  
  
"Aye," Mr. Roberts agreed, consulting a list tacked to the door. "You've got a space up by the wood there. Just the one night?"  
  
  
  
"That's it," Dad confirmed. Ginny wondered what would happen if the game ran for five days again, but didn't ask.   
  
  
  
After a bit of shuffle, Harry managed to help Dad pay with the strange muggle money. Then the muggle got a bit suspicious and had to have a memory charm. The wizard who did it looked exhausted. "Needs a Memory Charm ten times a day to keep him happy," he said, which certainly explained it. "And Ludo Bagman's not helping. Trotting around talking about Bludgers and Quaffles at the top of his coice, not a worry about anti-muggle security. Blimey, I'll be glad when this is over. See you later, Arthur."  
  
  
  
"I thought Mr. Bagman was the Head of Magical Games and Sports," Ginny exclaimed in confusion. "He should know better than to talk about Bludgers near muggles, shouldn't he?"  
  
  
  
"He should," Dad admitted with an indulgent grin. "But Ludo's always been a bit...well...lax about security." Ginny started to ask how he'd managed to end up in charge, but Dad had already begun to explain, "You couldn't wish for a more enthusiastic head of the sports department though. He played Quidditch for England himself, you know. And he was the best Beater the Wimbourne Wasps ever had."  
  
  
  
With a lot of help from Harry and Hermione, they set up their borrowed tents. Harry, Ron, and Hermione went for water. Ginny, Fred, and George went to gather firewood. They wandered around, staring at the all the strange sights, picking up sticks, and eventually layering them neatly in the fire pit for Dad. Dad produced a box of matches from his pocket, and proceeded to try to light them, a task apparently harder than it looked.   
  
  
  
Eventually Harry and the others got back, and Hermione showed him how it was done. They waited for it to heat enough to cook on, listening to Dad's running commentary of all the passing ministry officials. 


	10. Fancy a Flutter

Disclaimer--If you like it, assume I don't own it. The Potterverse belongs to JKR, Steve Klowes, Scholastic and WB. Fanon belongs to the multitude...I'm simply paying homage with the sincerest form of flattery. Most of this scene is from GoF by JK Rowling. No copyright infringement is intended, and no money is being made.   
  
Author's Notes-- For those of you who know my posting habits, a warning progress may be a lot slower in this work. I hope you'll make the effort to stick with me anyway. As you all know, I may not own it, but I work hard, and I love it, so if you read it and enjoy it, please review it!   
  
In the spirit of the holiday season, I've created a holiday card for you all. If you didn't receive a link, please feel free to take a look here: http://www.hallmark.com/hmk/Website/Shopping/Greetings/siv1031_receive.jsp?BV_SessionID=@@@@0718137468.1071509802@@@@&BV_EngineID=cadcjdgkkfggbedcfchcfhi.0&fromPage=/Website/greeting.jsp&sku=siv1031  
  
Ranting Idiot--Your poem is quite brilliant! *laughs and claps hands* You're back in my good graces...not that you ever left them. ;-) I feel bad about Cedric myself...I liked him. One of the brilliant things about HP is the fact that JK isn't afraid to spend a entire book (or books) making someone seem like a friend only to do what has to be done...it's bittersweet realism. *sighs* Still...  
  
Bee11--If you don't notice the good stuff, you might as well be dead! *winks* As for Harry...well, at thirteen and fourteen boys are just STARTING to consider the possibility girls might exist. *grins* Give him time...  
  
J. Rhaye--Don't worry...the major point is just to have fun! As long as you enjoy what you read, you're getting the message! *laughs* There are a few little hints or allusions, but I'm sure they'll fall into place, even if you don't realize you've seen them right away. A perfect example is that you're not off the mark at all...the title was chosen because it could refer to Harry and the shadow of what remains--which could be a connection from their shared experiences, or simply Ginny's one-sided feelings for him--between them, and/or to Tom-- the shadow of what remains of Voldemort after his encounter with Harry, or the shadow of the friendship he used to have with Ginny. See, pretty straightforward! *grins* So I wouldn't worry about looking too hard. *winks* No problem...I love those moments myself! *hugs* Yeah...Ginny is almost painfully fair, isn't she? I think it's because she's been in the position of having done something even she sees as awful and understands how she would feel if that was all people saw when they looked at her. But who knows? Oh, I agree with Bill too, but...*sighs* Anyway, I hope you keep enjoying the story! *hugs*  
  
EEDOE--Cedric--the anti-Fred-and-George-Weasley. *laughs* Mr. Diggory is a bit much to take, isn't he? *makes face* Yeah...maybe we can convince Cedric to do some instant replays with us later. *winks* I've had that thought about the ministry too...I wonder if it's a statement on the way adults appear to children in general, or a specific statement on politicians...I know which I suspect! *winks* Thanks. *hugs*  
  
Bill--I think you explained Ginny's reaction to Harry and Ron as well as I ever could. :-) Ginny is aware of Cedric...and I think she enjoys it a bit...she is female, after all. *winks* I agree completely about Mr. Roberts...I was confused by the muggle presence, too...perhaps the magical community didn't want to use the muggles' land without paying for it? Hmmm...I hadn't thought about that side of Arthur's opinion (I tend to read it as affectionately indulgent, as if the muggles are cute ), but you do make a very good point I'll have to muse on at length. I'm flattered you want me to maintain the pace, and I'll see what I can do, but I suspect I'm still not back to daily posts yet. *sighs* I wish I were! *hugs*  
  
***************************************************************************************************************************  
  
Percy, Bill, and Charlie arrived just in time for breakfast, and they were halfway through when Ludo Bagman himself put in an appearance. Just looking at him, it was obvious he hadn't given security a thought-he was wearing Quidditch robes in stripes of black and yellow, and looked very noticeable.   
  
  
  
"Arthur, old man. What a day, eh? What a day! Could we have asked for more perfect weather? A cloudless night coming...and hardly a hiccough in the arrangements...Not much for me to do!"  
  
  
  
He hardly waited for Dad to complete introductions, let alone for them to thank him for their tickets before he continued. "Fancy a flutter on the match, Arthur?" He jingled his pockets invitingly, and mentioned several people who'd placed bets already.  
  
  
  
"Oh, go on, then," Dad said, "Let's see, a galleon on Ireland to win?"  
  
  
  
"A galleon? Very well." Bagman looked a bit disappointed. "Very well. Any other takers?"  
  
  
  
"They're a bit young to be gambling," Dad said sharply. "Molly wouldn't like--"  
  
  
  
"We'll bet thirty-seven galleons, fifteen sickles, and three knuts," Fred said, pooling money with George, "Ireland wins, but Viktor Krum gets the Snitch-oh, and we'll throw in a fake wand."  
  
  
  
"You don't want to go showing Mr. Bagman rubbish like that--" Percy hissed, but Bagman roared with laughter.   
  
  
  
"Excellent! I haven't seen one that convincing in years! I'd pay you five galleons for that!" Ginny exchanged looks with Ron, who shrugged.   
  
  
  
"Boys," Dad warned under his breath, "I don't want you betting...that's all your savings. Your mother--"  
  
  
  
"Don't be a spoilsport, Arthur! They're old enough to know what they want! You reckon Ireland will win but Krum'll get the Snitch? Not a chance boys, not a chance...I'll give you excellent odds on that one."  
  
  
  
Ginny had to admit, it seemed absolutely ludicrous, and she wouldn't have risked her savings on it, but she wouldn't have bet against the twins. They had an uncanny knack for the impossible...and she didn't think they'd have risked their only business capital unless they were fairly certain they could get more...but she wondered where they'd come up with the idea...  
  
  
  
"Couldn't do me a brew, I suppose? I'm keeping an eye out for Barty Crouch. My Bulgarian opposite number's making difficulties and I can't understand a word he's saying. Barty'll be able to sort it out. He speaks about a hundred and fifty languages."  
  
  
  
"Mr. Crouch? He speaks over two hundred! Mermish and Gobbledygook and Troll..." Percy began.  
  
  
  
"Anyone can speak Troll," Fred said dismissively. "All you have to do is point and grunt."  
  
  
  
"Any news of Bertha Jorkins yet, Ludo?" Dad asked.   
  
  
  
"Not a dicky bird," Bagman said with perfect unconcern. "But she'll turn up. Poor Bertha...memory like a leaky cauldron, and no sense of direction. Lost, you take my word for it. She'll wander back into the office sometime in October, thinking it's still July."  
  
  
  
Ginny stared. //That certainly doesn't sound likely...//  
  
  
  
"You don't think it might be time to send someone to look for her?" Dad prompted uncomfortably.   
  
"Barty Crouch keeps saying that," Bagman answered, "but we really can't spare anyone at the moment... Oh, talk of the devil! Barty!"  
  
  
  
The very stiff-looking wizard in a flawless suit and shoes so bright they gave Ginny a headache had been looking for Mr. Bagman...apparently he knew about the Bulgarians, who wanted another twelve seats in the Top Box.   
  
  
  
"Mr. Crouch!" Percy was beside himself with excitement. "Would you like a cup of tea?"  
  
  
  
"Oh, yes-thank you, Weatherby," Mr. Crouch said in surprise.   
  
  
  
The twins nearly choked on laughter, but Ginny saw the flicker of pained disappointment in Percy's eyes and felt only sympathy as he turned away toward the kettle.   
  
  
  
Mr. Crouch stuck around for several minutes, briefly discussing the embargo on flying carpets with Dad, holding the cup Percy had handed him, forgotten until Ludo Bagman brought up the plans at which Percy had been hinting most of the summer and he suddenly remembered they had to meet the Bulgarians.   
  
  
  
"See you all later!" Bagman exclaimed, as Percy looked at the tea Mr. Crouch had given back, somewhat askance. "You'll be up in the Top Box with me-I'm commentating!" He waved, and Mr. Crouch-Ginny liked him less with each passing minute-nodded curtly as they Disapparated.  
  
  
  
"What's happening at Hogwarts, Dad?" Fred was asking, almost before they'd gone. "What were they talking about?"  
  
  
  
"You'll find out soon enough," Dad said, but he was smiling.   
  
  
  
"It's classified information, until such time as the ministry decides to release it," Percy said stiffly, "Mr. Crouch was quite right not to disclose it."  
  
  
  
Most of Ginny's sympathy for him evaporated. She couldn't understand why he would defend someone who treated him with such disinterest...it was really more like disrespect. She struggled against the urge to sigh. "Oh, shut up, Weatherby," Fred said flippantly, relieving her feelings slightly.   
  
  
  
As the light of the day disappeared, salesman began to appear, carrying trays and pushing carts full of interesting items. There were rosettes similar to the ones students wore to games at Hogwarts to display their house colors, only these were red for Bulgaria or green for Ireland, and shouted players names-reminding Ginny of Luna's more creative badges-as they glowed softly in the gathering dark. There were pointed hats for both teams, Ireland's thickly bedecked in shamrocks while Bulgaria's were thick stripes of flashing red, green, and white decorated with a fierce-looking lion rearing its head, and matching scarves for both. Flags from each nation played the appropriate anthem as they were waved, model players walked across hands shouting trademark claims, and eyeing model brooms that flew. Ginny studied all of it in abject fascination, but even though she had plenty of money saved, she didn't buy anything but an Irish rosette. Bill and Charlie bought rosettes as well, and Dad bought a flag.   
  
  
  
When Ron rejoined them at the tent, he was not only wearing an Irish rosette, but a hat. Ginny grinned as she realized he was carrying a model of Krum in spite of that. Harry was carrying three pair of very expensive-looking omnioculars Ginny couldn't help eyeing a bit covetously, and Hermione had even bought programs-she handed Ginny one surreptiously.   
  
  
  
Something boomed through the trees, making them both jump and look around as green and red lanterns blazed into life, lighting a path. "It's time," Dad said, looking excited. "Come on, let's go!" 


	11. A HouseElf

Disclaimer--If you like it, assume I don't own it. The Potterverse belongs to JKR, Steve Klowes, Scholastic and WB. Fanon belongs to the multitude...I'm simply paying homage with the sincerest form of flattery. Most of this scene is from GoF by JK Rowling. No copyright infringement is intended, and no money is being made.   
  
Author's Notes-- For those of you who know my posting habits, a warning progress may be a lot slower in this work. I hope you'll make the effort to stick with me anyway. As you all know, I may not own it, but I work hard, and I love it, so if you read it and enjoy it, please review it!   
  
Seems like ages since I've posted...Sorry for the delay, but I hope you all had very enjoyable holidays to distract you. ;-)  
  
Ranting Idiot--I hear you...but I guess that's how most citizens feel about their government...at least time to time. *makes wry face* Ginny certainly does seem to have everyone's number: even the most perceptive people can miss things, but today I think she's paying close at  
  
Raiining--Thanks--Ilove knowing when I hit a particularly apt description or image. ;-) I'm glad I was so on cue with my timing in clearing up a question, too. *grins* You've really made my day. *winks*   
  
Bee11-Thanks for the thought...my best wishes to you as well. The twins seem to get a lot of the most fun lines. ;-) Ginny's trust in them is a great thing...I think more older siblings should appreciate the unconditional belief of their siblings...it's a treasure beyond price! It is too bad Ginny missed out on the omninoculars, but I'm sure Harry will make it up after he finally notices what he's been missing.   
  
J. Rhaye--It is nice to see a Harry Potter with family connections they can actually be proud of, isn't it? *grins wryly* I'm glad you enjoy it too. *Laughs* I couldn't have said it better about Ginny and Harry myself! *hugs*  
  
EEDOE--I totally agree with you about Bagman! The first time I read GoF, he gave me a major case of the creeps...*shivers* I'm glad I'm not the only one who doesn't buy his stupid act! I agree...Percy's priorties are very out of whack, and in a way, that's almost as dark and threatening as more deliberate malice. *shivers again* Have I mentioned I secretly think Fred and George are probably the most brilliant of a very brilliant family--almost definitely past borderline genius. Their very lack of interest in being intelligent is probably the most compelling proof of it. *giggles* Yeah...I felt a bit sorry for the stick myself...it was a shock. *makes face and smirks* Hmmm...you have a point about the colors...I wonder what that signifies, then? Especially as Bulgaria LOOSES? *winces* I'm not sure I want to muse on that too deeply. *hugs*  
  
Bill--*laughs and applauds* Brilliant, Mate! You have a point...but what a mistake it was, eh? You're right...we really haven't heard from Bion in quite a while...I hadn't realized how long...What a great picture you draw of Lee...if only I could work that in...assuming you'd let me borrow it. *grins* *hugs*  
  
*********************************************************************************************************************  
  
All around them hummed the excited voices of a multitude. Ginny's skin tingled with the anticipation permeating the air. Her own heart beat so fast she could feel it fluttering like a captured snitch in her chest. She actually thought she could feel the ground beneath her feet thrumming with energy. The walk to the stadium seemed to take a lifetime, and she couldn't help twitching with nervous energy whenever they stopped to exchange friendly words with another witch or wizard along the way, all of whom wore a look of similar impatient joy.   
  
  
  
Finally the stadium stretched out before them, vast as an ocean. Ginny was too busy staring at it to spare Harry a glance, but he was just as awed as she was...somehow she could tell. "Seats a hundred thousand," Dad told him. "Ministry task force of five hundred have been working on it all year. Muggle Repelling Charms on every inch of it. Every time Muggles have got anywhere near here all year, they've suddenly remembered urgent appointments and had to dash away again...bless them." He sighed affectionately, making Ginny smile.   
  
  
  
"Prime seats!" The Ministry Witch who checked their tickets said a bit enviously as they followed the masses into the nearest entrance. "Top Box! Straight upstairs, Arthur, and as high as you can go." Even though she'd already heard as much from Ludo Bagman, Ginny couldn't help catching her breath with a sudden thrill of excitement. The purple carpet of the stairs was so thick and plush it felt like walking up an inclined featherbed, which only added to her sudden conviction-this had to be a dream.   
  
  
  
The Top Box, when they reached it, was actually quite small and cozy. It was situated exactly in the middle between the two sets of goal posts, and Ginny found herself longing for Lee, who would really appreciate the view. But, she quickly reminded herself, he was watching the game from perfectly good seats of his own, no doubt having a great time in spite of a slightly less impressive perspective. She took a seat in one of the first row of purple-and-gilt chairs, settled comfortably between her dad and Charlie. Bill sat on Charlie's other side, reassuringly close by, but Harry seemed miles away on the other side of not only Fred and George, but Ron as well. Somehow, Hermione had ended up even farther away, on the other side of Harry. Ginny sighed, and shrugged mentally, doing her best to turn her attention to reading the advertisements on the blackboard directly across from her.   
  
  
  
Mrs. Skower's All-Purpose Magical Mess Remover...Mum loved that stuff.   
  
  
  
"Dobby!" Ginny turned instinctively at the disbelief in Harry's voice, then registered the name. Dobby. As in, Dobby the house-elf. As in, Dobby the house-elf who'd tried to tell Harry about Tom Riddle's diary...A fine chill fell over her, a mist of memory, making her shiver.   
  
  
  
"Did sir just call me Dobby?" The big-eared, knobby-nosed creature Ginny assumed was a house- elf-she'd never actually seen one before-sitting in the second to last seat at the end of the row behind them peered out from between it's long, knotted fingers at the people-Ginny wasn't the only one who remembered the name-staring at it.   
  
  
  
"Sorry," Harry said a bit awkwardly. "I just thought you were someone I knew."   
  
  
  
"But I knows Dobby, too, sir!" The elf squeaked, still shielding its face with its hands. Ginny wondered if it was shy. "My name is Winky, sir-and you, sir-You is surely Harry Potter!"  
  
  
  
Harry looked even more awkward. If he'd been a Weasley, Ginny was sure he would have flushed. "Yeah," he said, "I am."  
  
  
  
"But Dobby talks of you all the time, sir!" The elf dropped its-her?-hands, forgetting to shield her face. She looked quite taken aback at such company.   
  
  
  
"How is he?" Harry asked politely. "How's freedom suiting him?"  
  
  
  
"Ah, sir," Winky said primly, shaking her head, "Ah, sir, meaning no disrespect, but I is not sure you did Dobby a favor, sir, when you is setting him free."  
  
  
  
In spite of herself, Ginny stared, nearly open-mouthed. //How extraordinary.//  
  
  
  
"Why?" Harry asked, clearly equally at a loss of his own. "What's wrong with him?"  
  
  
  
"Freedom is going to Dobby's head, sir. Ideas above his station, sir. Can't get another position, sir."  
  
  
  
"Why not?" Harry asked, thankfully giving voice to Ginny's question.   
  
  
  
Winky looked around as if making sure there were no one to overhear, and lowered her voice so Ginny could barely hear her, "He's wanting paying for his work, sir."  
  
  
  
"Paying," repeated Harry. "Well, why shouldn't he be paid?"  
  
  
  
Winky covered her face again, horrified. "House-elves is not paid, sir!" She squeaked in affront. "No, no, no. I says to Dobby, I says, go find yourself an nice family and settle down, Dobby. He is getting up to all sorts of hijinks, sir, what is unbecoming a house-elf." Ginny could have sworn Hermione snorted., but she couldn't be sure as Winky continued, "You goes racketing around like this, Dobby, I says, and next thing I hear you's up in front of the Department for Magical Regulation and Control like some common goblin."   
  
  
  
//She sounds like Mum//, Ginny thought, half-dazed and amused.  
  
  
  
"Well, it's about time he had a bit of fun," said Harry.   
  
  
  
"House-elves is not supposed to have fun, Harry Potter," Winky said in a tone nearly matching one of Percy's.   
  
  
  
"She sounds like Mum," George murmured with dark humor.   
  
  
  
"Only we're the house-elves," muttered Fred.  
  
  
  
Ginny hoped Dad hadn't heard.   
  
  
  
"I is not liking heights at all, Harry Potter--" Winky continued, glancing towards the edge of the box with a gulp, "-but my master sends me to the Top Box, and I comes, sir."  
  
  
  
"Why's he sent you up here, if he knows you don't like heights?" Harry frowned, and Ginny could have kissed him.   
  
  
  
"Master-master wants me to save him a seat, Harry Potter," Winky said, indicating the empty seat at the end of the row. "He is very busy."  
  
  
  
"So that's a house-elf?" Ron said meditatively as she turned back to hiding, "Weird things, aren't they?"  
  
  
  
"Dobby was weirder," Harry said with conviction. 


	12. Opening Show

Disclaimer--If you like it, assume I don't own it. The Potterverse belongs to JKR, Steve Klowes, Scholastic and WB. Fanon belongs to the multitude...I'm simply paying homage with the sincerest form of flattery. Most of this scene is from GoF by JK Rowling. No copyright infringement is intended, and no money is being made.   
  
Author's Notes-- For those of you who know my posting habits, a warning progress may be a lot slower in this work. I hope you'll make the effort to stick with me anyway. As you all know, I may not own it, but I work hard, and I love it, so if you read it and enjoy it, please review it!   
  
Raiining--I've always thought there was a special bond between Ginny and Arthur, but maybe I'm prejudiced, since I'm definitely a Daddy's Little Girl! I'm glad you enjoy seeing them together as much as I do. ;-)  
  
J.Rhaye--I agree..it's nice to see Ginny thinking more about having fun than about Harry...and that thought about Lee certainly served Harry right! *winks* I think you're right...growing beyond the crush actually allows Ginny's relationship with Harry to deepen and mature. I'm looking forward to it, too. *hugs*  
  
EEDOE--You know me so well! I hope the Malfoy's arrival lives up to your expectations. *winks* I'm glad you're enjoying the excitement of the match, you've certainly earned a little fun! *hugs*  
  
Bill--Sorry you had to wait so long for this next chapter. I used to love ballgames as a little kid. Actually, I still do. *grins sheepishly* I'll try to work Lee and the twins in somewhere, but no promises...these stories have a way of taking on a mind of their own! *laughs* You're right...there are definite patterns here...*laughs* Still, people do tend to have...um...well...patterns. *grins* *hugs*  
  
Enjoy!  
  
**********************************************************************************************************  
  
Other wizards filed into place, nearly all of them shaking hands with Dad along the way. Percy jumped to his feet to greet everyone who walked by...until he broke his glasses bowing-"More like kow-towing," George snidely said-to the Minister of Magic. He repaired them easily, but he kept his seat after that, glowering at Harry, who'd seemed to interest the Minister a lot more than he had. He was telling them about the Bulgarian Minister-whom he'd been attempting, without much success, to introduce to Harry-when the last occupants of the box arrived. It had to be the Malfoys, Ginny thought, making a face to herself.   
  
  
  
Mr. Malfoy and Dad glowered at one another, all but oblivious to the Minister and his Bulgarian counterpart. "Good lord, Arthur," Mr. Malfoy drawled in a way that made Ginny's skin lurch like an escaping slug, "What did you have to sell to get seats in the Top Box? Surely your house wouldn't have fetched this much?"  
  
  
  
"Lucius has just given a very generous contribution to St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies, Arthur," Fudge said, apparently oblivious, "He's here as my guest."  
  
  
  
"How-how nice," Dad said with admirable-and somewhat unexpected-control.  
  
  
  
Mr. Malfoy was staring pointedly-Ginny couldn't see what had his attention around her brothers, but she had the bad feeling it might be Hermione. He didn't say anything, though, and Ginny found herself breathing a sigh of relief as he and his family continued down the row to their seats...though she did wish they weren't quite so close by, especially as Lucius Malfoy reminded her quite strongly of Tom.   
  
  
  
His shadow seemed to taint her excitement with a darker cast, and, overall, she was quite grateful for the distraction of Ludo Bagman bounding into the box.   
  
  
  
"Everyone ready? Minister-ready to go?"  
  
  
  
"Ready when you are, Ludo," Minister Fudge said amiably.   
  
  
  
Bagman performed a quick amplifying charm on his voice, and spoke over the rushing roar of the crowd. "Ladies and Gentlemen...welcome! Welcome to the final of the four hundred and twenty-second Quidditch World Cup!"  
  
  
  
The noise was unbelievable. Ginny thought it was so strong she could walk across the field on it.   
  
  
  
"And now, without further ado, allow me to introduce...the Bulgarian National Team Mascots!"  
  
  
  
"I wonder what they've brought," Dad said excitedly, leaning forward as the Bulgarians shouted their approval and support. "Aah!" He whipped off his glasses and polished them on his robe, even though they didn't look the slightest bit dirty to Ginny. "Veela!"  
  
  
  
"What are veel--" Harry began, and stopped in the middle, his mouth suddenly going slack. At least, Ginny thought it did...it was hard to tell around so many of her brothers. She couldn't really see what had captured his attention...veela were just women. Maybe they were extremely beautiful...with their long golden hair, burningly brilliant eyes, and glowing white skin like pearls...a little too beautiful...almost as if they weren't exactly human...but they weren't exactly the most fascinating creatures she'd ever seen. Music started, and they began to dance, which Ginny had to admit was an amazing sight to behold, the graceful and flowing lines of their movement so expressive and emotional they made her want to shout, they made her want to weep.   
  
  
  
"Harry," she heard Hermione snap sharply as the music stopped, "what are you doing?"  
  
  
  
She could barely seem him just beyond Ron-who appeared to contemplating a dive-or, rather, she could see his leg, resting on the wall of the box. The entire stadium was yelling, angry at the loss of the veela. Ginny felt rather relieved. Especially to see Ron drop back into his seat...even if he and Harry were both toying with their Irish accoutrements.  
  
  
  
Dad leaned over and tugged Ron's hat away from him before he could do it any more damage. "You'll be wanting that," he said, amused, "once Ireland have had their say."  
  
  
  
"Huh?" Ron grunted vaguely, still staring across the field at the veela.   
  
  
  
"Oh, honestly!" Hermione huffed, yanking Harry back into his seat.   
  
  
  
Ginny grinned, a bit comforted.   
  
  
  
"And now," Bagman boomed, "kindly put your wands in the air ...for the Irish National Team Mascots!"  
  
  
  
A great shamrock of leprechauns soared overhead, tossing gold. Ginny dodged as best she could...where the gold pieces hit, it stung. Eventually the shamrock dissolved, the leprechauns drifting down to the field across from the veela.   
  
  
  
Bagman shouted out the names of the Bulgarian Team as they zoomed into place, looking quite impressive and intimidating in bold scarlet robes a little like the ones worn by the Gryffindor team. "That's him, that's him!" She heard Ron shout as Bagman announced the Bulgarian Seeker, Viktor Krum. She squinted across the field at a somewhat round-shouldered man with dark skin and a face like a hawk.   
  
  
  
She was quickly distracted by the entrance of the Irish Team in a burst of green streaks reminiscent of the leprechauns zooming about.   
  
  
  
The Chairwizard of the International Association of Quidditch, a wizard from Egypt named Hassan Mostafa, came in last, his broom under his arm, wearing golden robes, and the silver whistle of the referee. He mounted his broomstick, releasing all four balls from their crate, so they burst into the air in an explosion of color-red Quaffle, black Bludgers, and tiny golden snitch. With a sharp burst of his whistle, Mostafa shot after them. "Theeeeeey're OFF!" Bagman shouted, so Ginny's ears started ringing. 


	13. World Class Quidditch

Disclaimer--If you like it, assume I don't own it. The Potterverse belongs to JKR, Steve Klowes, Scholastic and WB. Fanon belongs to the multitude...I'm simply paying homage with the sincerest form of flattery. Most of this scene is from GoF by JK Rowling. No copyright infringement is intended, and no money is being made.   
  
Author's Notes-- Progress has been a lot slower in this work--this has been an absolutely hectic month! I apologize for taking so long to catch up! (In the meantime, may I recommend you hop over and check out "Pirates from Potions" by EEDOE? It's a riot.) I hope you're still willing to stick with me anyway. As you all know, I may not own it, but I work hard, and I love it, so if you read it and enjoy it, please review it!   
  
Raiining--I think Ginny sometimes wishes her family had more money, but growing up without a lot of it has forced her to realize it's not really that important...a lesson Ron needs to learn. As for her reaction to the Veela, you got the impression I was trying to create. For Harry and the Weasley boys, the attraction of the Veela is a simple physical thing, and that doesn't necessarily affect Ginny because she's female, but Ginny is very emotional, and her reaction to the Veela has to do with her appreciation of their performance as an emotional art...something that takes a little time to build up. I hope that makes sense!   
  
J. Rhaye--I try to keep the perspective fresh and interesting. *looks anxious and sheepish*. It is nice Ginny choses to focus on Hermione, and I think it does demonstrate her caring nature...of course, it can also be easier to deal with other people's demons than our own, and that probably played a part. Hmm...yes...Percy...I tend to think we've yet to see just how misguided he can be, and I feel a little sorry for him because he hasn't benefited from the examples his family has set. I love it when people compliment my descriptions! *does happy dance* After all, writing is the attempt to help others paint a picture in their heads. *winks* As for the Veela, I'd love to take credit, but JK had already taken care of that. *sighs and grins* Thanks for the review...I hope I get another one! *hugs*  
  
EEDOE--You've been making me feel guilty for neglecting this story (the motivation is FANTASTIC *grins*), and I've loved every word of it! *winks* Something to do with the Longbottoms...*muses* Maybe we should write an alternate series (if only we had time!) *winks* The similarity between Lucius and Tom Riddle has always struck me as pretty strong...something in the way they speak? Or the way Rowling describes them? I'm not sure. Yeah...I would have loved to have seen that scene with the Veela firsthand...but I'd probably have been distracted by all the really cute men. *giggles* Looking forward to hearing from you! *hugs*  
  
Bill--My number one fan...sorry I've been MIA so long, but I really haven't forgotten you! I know what you mean...I probably would have tried to push Malfoy from the Top Box. You nailed Percy! *giggles* A real facer! *whistles and stamps feet* Maybe the Malfoy family crest is a slug someone mistook for a dragon? They certainly are slimy enough...too bad they probably don't taste that good. *looks horrified, blushes, and slaps hand over her mouth* Fudge...I'm still not sure I think we've seen the last of Harry and Dumbledore's trouble with him...there's something about him I don't care for--besides stupidity, I mean. *grins wryly* I think you're probably right about Ginny and Ron's differing approaches to class. *smirks* Looking forward to more of your thoughts. *hugs*   
  
****************************************************************************************************************************  
  
The action was such a blur Bagman didn't have time to do anything but shout a continuous list of names. Ginny's head was moving back and forth so quickly it felt like the Quaffle. Even in the chaotic swirl of the field below, she could tell the Irish Chasers were absolutely amazing. She watched Troy fake an upward dart with the Quaffle, only to drop it neatly into the waiting hands of Moran. Nearly breathless, she saw the Bulgarian Beaters react quickly, hitting a Bludger at Moran and forcing him to drop the ball. Amazed and thrilled, she screamed with delight as his teammate Levski caught it and tossed it in a high arc...right into the waiting arms of Troy, who was mere feet from the goal... "TROY SCORES!" Bagman roared before the Quaffle had finished falling through the hoop. "Ten zero to Ireland!" Ginny shouted with the rest of the crowd, waving her fist in triumph over head.   
  
  
  
"That was amazing!" She shouted in happy disbelief.   
  
  
  
"I told you they were good!" Charlie shouted, beaming.   
  
  
  
If the Gryffindor Chasers were inspiring, the Irish Chasers were inspirational. Ginny couldn't take her eyes off them as they dove, looped, and whirled in close and rhythmic tandem. In ten minutes time, they had scored twice more, and Ginny was nearly as captivated with them as Harry and Ron had been with the veela. Unfortunately, the Bulgarian Beaters were almost equally good, and frustration only fueled their skills.   
  
  
  
Ginny groaned as Bulgaria scored. She thought she could see Fred and George exchange a telling glance.   
  
  
  
Suddenly the two Seekers plunged, nearly as one, through the heart of the field. Ginny gasped. "Going...crash!" She heard Hermione shriek from the far end of the row. Suddenly she saw not the Seekers of the Quidditch World Cup, but Harry, plunging toward the ground at breakneck speed...she almost thought she could hear the echo of her own scream as she ran toward him... At the last possible instant, the round-shouldered hulk in red robes pulled sharply upward, his feet all but skimming the ground, as Lynch hit the ground with a thud-the sound was disturbingly loud. It was quickly followed by an equally loud groan from the Irish-supporters in the crowd.  
  
"It's time out!" yelled Bagman's voice, "as trained medi-wizards hurry onto the field to examine Aidan Lynch!"  
  
"He'll be okay," Charlie said soothingly, reaching out to touch the back of her hand with his fingers. And Ginny realized she was hanging over the edge of the box, staring after Lynch with tears stinging the back of her eyes. "He only got plowed-which is what Krum was after, of course..."  
  
Ginny swallowed hard. She nodded at him gratefully as she sat back down and inhaled shakily.   
  
Far below, Lynch was being given various reviving potions. Krum flitted about the stadium, his angular face screwed up in concentration as he used the time to search for the snitch. Lynch, obviously trying to limit his opportunity as much as he could, kicked hastily back into the air, and Mostafa blew his whistle again, signaling the resumption of game play.   
  
The Irish played better than ever after Krum's-even Ginny had to admit it was clever-trick. They were ahead by another ten goals in fifteen minutes.   
  
"And Mostafa takes the Bulgarian Keeper to task for Cobbing-excessive use of elbows--" Ginny heard with a sense of disbelief...Keepers hardly ever came into close enough contact with the other players to be involved in physical fouls.   
  
"And-yes, it's a penalty to Ireland!"  
  
The leprechauns, buzzing like a horde of Cornish Pixies with anger, formed the words HA HA HA! Far above the field. In retaliation, the veela soared up and began to dance. Having finally caught on, Ginny's brothers and Harry all stuck their fingers in their ears.   
  
Hassan Mostafa wasn't so lucky...in no time at all, he'd landed in front of them, flexing his muscles and smoothing his mustache. "Now we can't have that!" Bagman laughed. "Somebody slap the referee!" A medi-wizard, fingers stuffed in his ears-ran across the field and kicked Mostafa. Mostafa stopped, looking more embarrassed than if he'd turned a Weasley red, and turned to yell at the veela, who were looking decidedly sulky. "And, unless I'm mistaken, Mostafa is actually attempting to send off the Bulgarian Team Mascots!" Bagman announced. "Now there's something we haven't seen before...oh this could turn nasty..." Even as he said the words, the leprechauns were forming the words HEE HEE HEE, and a few seconds later, when the Bulgarians were still arguing, Mostafa gave two short blasts of his whistle-"Two penalties for Ireland!" Bagman shouted in surprise. The Bulgarian crowd snarled with anger. "And Volkov and Vulchanov had better get back on those brooms...yes...there they go...and Troy takes the Quaffle..."  
  
The Bulgarian Beaters had started to hit anything in sight, and Dimitrov fouled Moran almost immediately. Mostafa awarded the Irish another penalty, and the leprechauns rose in the air to make an extremely rude gesture toward the veela, who began hurling handfuls of fire across the field, their beautiful glowing faces elongating into sharp scaly scowls...  
  
"And that, boys," yelled Dad, "is why you should never go for looks alone!"  
  
Krum was hit full in the face with a Bludger, and Ginny felt a surge of reluctant admiration to see him flying in spite of it, blood streaming across his face, but Lynch was already diving, looking for all the world like Harry when he'd seen the snitch. Even feeling sorry for Krum, Ginny leapt to her feet, screaming encouragement to Lynch, but Krum was on his tail, blood spattering in a brilliant plume behind him as he drew closer to Lynch...  
  
"They're...crash!" Hermione shouted again.   
  
"...Not!" She thought she heard Ron answer.  
  
"Lynch is!" Harry decided.   
  
And he was right. For the second time, Lynch slammed into the ground. He was immediately trampled by a horde of angry veela-still looking quite frightening.   
  
"The snitch!" Charlie-also on his feet-shouted wildly, looking around. "Where's the snitch?"  
  
"He's got it!" Harry shouted back. "Krum's got it-it's all over!"  
  
Krum, his face slick with blood so it was nearly as red as his robes, was rising in the air, the snitch clutched in his hand.   
  
The scoreboard was flashing BULGARIA: 160, IRELAND: 170 as the Irish crowd slowly began to react.   
  
"IRELAND WINS!" Bagman shouted, obviously aghast. "KRUM GETS THE SNITCH-BUT IRELAND WINS-good lord, I don't think any of us were expecting that!"  
  
With a start, Ginny remembered that wasn't quite right...Fred and George had. She glanced over in their direction, but they were hidden behind Bill and Dad who were nearly jumping up and down as they bellowed the Irish Anthem-not that they knew the words. 


	14. The Dark Mark

Disclaimer--If you like it, assume I don't own it. The Potterverse belongs to JKR, Steve Klowes, Scholastic and WB. Fanon belongs to the multitude...I'm simply paying homage with the sincerest form of flattery. Most of this scene is from GoF by JK Rowling. No copyright infringement is intended, and no money is being made.   
  
Author's Notes-- Progress has been a lot slower in this work (In the meantime, may I recommend "Pirates from Potions by EEDOE, "That Muted Sort of Longing" by Serendipity, "Transfixed" by Lovely-Lina1985, or "The Ginny Chronicles" by Casca?) I hope you're still willing to stick with me anyway. As you all know, I may not own it, but I work hard, and I love it, so if you read it and enjoy it, please review it! Please don't print or post this elsewhere without my knowledge.   
  
Hairy_Hen--Oooh...I love a new reviewer! *grins* I'm glad you find the story interesting (there are two prequels you might enjoy as well) and hope you'll keep reading. It is a lot of fun to have Ginny so observant, and I totally agree about infatuation! I hope you'll review again! :-)  
  
Raiining--Great! I'm glad! :-)  
  
Bee11--No need to apologize...my absence has been just as bad, if not worse. I'm glad you're back to review now. :-)I understand what you mean about the Quidditch game...I never dreamed it would take this long! *grins* Still...I think it's coming to a close, so hopefully you'll have more to comment on soon. *hugs*  
  
J.Rhaye--I don't think you've reviewed yet, but it just didn't feel right not to mention you! Hi!! :-)  
  
EEDOE--I'm glad you liked that little touch with Ginny already considering Chasing. After all, she does it so well. *winks* I agree...those accidents threatening the ones we love can be hideous...and the imagined ones aren't much better. *shudders* Bleh. Poor Ginny. I think you have a point...Weasley Red, the color recognized round the world. *smirks* It's a start at a unified world, I suppose. *shrugs and grins* I love that last little glimpse of Mr. Weasley and Bill. *giggles* What a great review! *hugs*   
  
Bill--I liked the rapid-fire pace of the last chapter too...everything flew by in a bit of blur,it was a completely different feeling from the scenes I tend to write. *grins and shrugs* I definitely think Ginny is considering her own Quidditch future...after all, what's more inspiring to a hopeful athlete than the World Cup? Charlie is very sweet here, which I liked. *grins* I'm not sure if he caught on to Ginny's fears about Harry, or just thought his little sister was being a bit squeamish about seeing people hurt, but either way, the reassurance was well-done. :-) I'm glad you thought the chapter was worth the wait! *wipes sweat off brow and beams* I hope you like this one, too! *hugs*   
  
If I missed replying to any reviews, I apologize, but now that I've had a chance to think about it, I'm really anxious to run with the story while I can. *grins sheepishly* Rest assured, I do appreciate ALL my reviews!  
  
*****************************************************************************************************  
  
Discussing the Quidditch World Cup was even better than...well...watching the Quidditch World Cup. Try as they might, no one could get Fred or George to explain how they'd managed to predict the outcome so accurately, though Ginny got the distinct impression that if she really wanted to try worming it out of them in the future, they might be willing. In the meantime, everyone was still more than entertained. Charlie and Harry argued the merits of Lynch as Seeker, versus those of Krum, with Harry maintaining (staunchly supported by Ron) that Krum was absolutely brilliant, while Charlie said that Krum's brash style actually put him at a slight disadvantage because it left him so prone to injury, and might distract other members of his team, not to mention using up a lot of his concentration that ought to be focused on finding the Snitch. Though, as Harry (and Ron) maintained, Krum didn't seem to be too behind in that area anyway. Ginny couldn't help being absolutely fascinated by the discussion, more because of what was revealed not only about her brother, but Harry, in their opinions, but she was even more interested in Dad's conversation with Bill, comparing the strengths and weaknesses of opposing Chaser styles and strategies. She had never realized the complexity of Quidditch.   
  
As if the discussion weren't exciting enough, Dad had even made Ginny's favorite hot chocolate...which turned out to be surprisingly good. Full, warm, and entertained, Ginny found herself floating slowly away from her chair in the direction of cloud nine. She saw stands spilling over with an ocean of faces, heard the roaring tide of their voices, felt her broom swoop and sway as she shifted her weight...a heavy bludger plummeted toward her, and she swerved away from it, feeling it strike the edge of her elbow, which bloomed not with pain, but something warm and wet...  
  
"Oops-looks like Ginny's tired of our company again," she heard Bill say, his voice lit with affection.   
  
"Sorry? What?" Ginny mumbled, shifting upward in her chair, trying to pry her eyes open.   
  
"No need to apologize," Charlie assured her cheerfully. "We'll have your cocoa mopped up in no time, Sleepyhead."  
  
Ginny felt her face flush, but she knew she wasn't blushing like she normally would-she was too tired to be embarrassed.  
  
"It's far later than we realized," added Dad matter-of-factly. "We all should be in bed."   
  
It must have been late indeed, because no one really argued. Ginny and Hermione leaned against one another, holding each other up on their way to their tent. Hermione took the time to put on her pajamas, but Ginny just kicked off her shoes and tumbled fully clothed into bed.  
  
Hearing her father shout her name felt like being roused from the dead. Rubbing her eyes as she kicked herself into a position somewhere close to upright, Ginny looked over at Hermione, who stared back, eyes wide. "What's going on?"  
  
"I don't know," Hermione answered, and Ginny wondered if she'd imagined the waver in her voice.   
  
"Ginny," Dad called again, "Hurry!"   
  
Exchanging another glance with Hermione, Ginny stumbled out of the tent toward the campground. The cold air hit her with a shock as she realized the strange sound in the background-it was screaming.   
  
"We're going to help the Ministry," Dad explained. Ginny's hands stopped in mid-air as she fought the urge to clutch at him. "You lot get into the woods, and stick together. I'll come and fetch you when we've sorted all this out."  
  
Ginny blinked, suddenly seeing what she'd been looking at. A large crowd had gathered not far away, all of them looking up...and over their heads the Roberts family rotated. The mother was upside down, all but hidden by the drifts of her nightdress.   
  
Ginny stared, repelled, but oddly fascinated, until Fred pulled her away with a jerk. She barely noticed her own motion, occupied in staring back at the crowd, wondering what had happened and how Dad, Percy, Bill and Charlie were going to save the Roberts. People pushed in on her from all sides. She felt trapped, threatened, claustrophobic. She took deep, cleansing breaths. Fred squeezed her fingers reassuringly. She squeezed back, feeling better.   
  
Until she realized Ron was missing.   
  
"Fred!" She shouted, or tried to. They'd been running so long it came out as more of a gasp.   
  
"Stop!"  
  
"Sorry, Gin, I don't think that's a good id--"  
  
"Hey, where are Harry and Hermione?" George interrupted, turning in wild circles to search all around him, nearly sitting down in the process.   
  
"They're probably with Ron," Fred said, stopping to look back over his shoulder.  
  
"Which is what I've been trying to tell you," Ginny pointed out. "Ron is missing."  
  
"What?"  
  
"They must have gone off on their own," George observed wryly, crossing his arms and sitting down on a stump. "You know how those three--"  
  
"Always getting into trouble," Fred finished with a snort, rolling his eyes. "This is just brilliant."  
  
"What are we going to do?" Ginny asked, fear squeezing tight through her chest, even though the worst of the screams had died away. "We have to find them!"  
  
"In this crowd?" Fred answered her, looking at George.   
  
"They could be anywhere," George added.   
  
"So we're not even going to look?" Ginny demanded hotly, rounding on him.   
  
George leaned back and extended his arms, the palms out and turned up in surrender. "We're more likely to find them--"  
  
"If we stay put," Fred agreed, nodding. "So that they--"  
  
"Can come to us," George concluded sagely.   
  
Ginny swallowed against the lump in her throat; she was feeling trapped again.   
  
"Don't worry, Gin," Fred said, not without sympathy, "They can take care of themselves, those three."  
  
"They've gotten out of trouble worse than this, haven't they?" George added with a proud grin.   
  
Ginny could never help responding to that grin. But her answering expression felt strangely compressed.   
  
"So..." George added speculatively, turning his grin on Fred, "do you want to know how we knew the outcome of the game?"  
  
"Or not?" Fred added his own satisfied grin.   
  
Ginny glanced between them, gave a shrug and a sigh, and sat down on a corner of George's stump.   
  
"This," she said warningly, "had better be good."   
  
"Get down," Fred hissed. George was already pulling her behind the stump. Ginny bit off the end of a surprised gasp.   
  
"It's okay," Dad's voice filtered through the somewhat eerie silence. "But I'm glad to see you're being cautious."   
  
The three of them walked around the stump, brushing bits of mud and leaves off their clothes. The reassuring smile on Dad's face slowly faded into tense surprise. "Where are the others-you aren't all here?"  
  
"We got separated," Fred said apologetically.   
  
"Sorry, Dad," George added, "We tried, really we did, but--"  
  
"It was dark, unfamiliar, and filled with a lot of frightened people," Dad said resignedly. "It's okay, boys, I'm sure you did your best. Do you know your way back to the campsite?"  
  
George nodded. "Sure, no problem, it's over that way." He pointed.   
  
"Okay...you take your sister back there. I'll go look for the others."  
  
They had just come within sight of camp when the clearing flashed with a serpentine green light. Ginny felt her skin ice over. Heart frozen in her chest, scarcely daring to breath, she slowly looked up. She had often imagined Harry's eyes looked like green stars, but they were nothing like the ominous green pinpricks of light that hung in a noxious nebula overhead. It was shaped like a skull with a snake slithering from its mouth. Ginny knew immediately. It was a sign. It was His sign. It was too similar to the basilisk in the Chamber to be anything else.   
  
Promptly, and without ceremony, Ginny threw up. 


	15. A Tense Tent

Disclaimer--If you like it, assume I don't own it. The Potterverse belongs to JKR, Steve Klowes, Scholastic and WB. Fanon belongs to the multitude...I'm simply paying homage with the sincerest form of flattery. Most of this scene is from GoF by JK Rowling. No copyright infringement is intended, and no money is being made.   
  
Author's Notes-- Progress has been a lot slower in this work. I hope you're still willing to stick with me anyway. As you all know, I may not own it, but I work hard, and I love it, so if you read it and enjoy it, please review it! Please don't print or post this elsewhere without my knowledge.   
  
Jamie Bell--I couldn't ask for a better compliment than that--Thanks! I love knowing I've helped you see Ginny as a real character. *beams* I relate to her and how she feels about Harry, too, so it really means A LOT to me that you think it's so powerful.(I've written two previous stories about Ginny as well...I hope you check them out.) I look forward to hearing more from you in the future!   
  
Raiining--I agree...it's fun to see the twins reaction on Harry and his friends, they admire the behaviour and not the fame, which is a nice change. They are very happy with themselves, which is something we would all do well to imitate, and part of what makes them so much FUN. :-) It is a nice touch that Harry and Ginny can have similar daydreams. And I suspect that not only are those kinds of conversation common among the Weasleys, Mrs. Weasley is probably more adamant than any of them!   
  
EEDOE--Thanks...I liked Ginny's nap, too. :-) I can see Hermione and Ginny leaning on one another, staggering around and laughing, and I love it, because it's so rare and special to have a friend you feel that comfortable with, and they both deserve it. The scene with the Roberts was very uncomfortable...*shudders* You have a good point about JK pairing off Ginny and the twins so often...somehow they just seem to be very naturally simpatico. Oh, I agree...the twins ARE shrewd...*smirks* I'm sorry...but I couldn't help it!! *hangs head and grins* I love your reaction, though! *hugs*   
  
Bill--I think a roller-coaster is right! You describe what Ginny heard in Harry and Charlie's discussion better than I could myself. *grins* I agree that Harry is probably on the road to a more cautious future of his own...and that will own make him more attractive...and formidable. *grins* Thanks...I thought it was a good explanation and a nice use of Ginny's interests and the game. Yup...the old fears are back, but I think they're different, too...Sorry--but not much--about the tease *smirks* As for revealing it in the future...I'm not sure. *shrugs* You've been reading my notes--which is odd since I didn't write them down! A punch to the stomach is exactly what I was thinking Ginny felt when I wrote that last line! Thanks, I appreciate the vote of confidence! *hugs*  
  
****************************************************************************************************************************  
  
Fred and George didn't even notice.   
  
  
  
They didn't notice Bill either...until he seized them both by the arm. "What in the name of Merlin do you think you're doing? Don't just stand there-get inside!"  
  
  
  
"Bill," Fred said, and Ginny was shaken to realize he sounded uncertain, "what is that?"  
  
  
  
Bill's face was unnaturally grim. "That is the Dark Mark."  
  
  
  
"The Dark Mark?" George repeated, face blank, eyes impossibly wide.  
  
  
  
"His sign," Ginny said hoarsely. "The sign of Voldemort."  
  
  
  
"That's right," Bill said, tilting his head to the side to look at her oddly.   
  
  
  
She shook her head ever-so-slightly, willing him not to ask. He studied her a bit longer, then nodded, just as imperceptibly.   
  
  
  
"But does that mean..." Fred's voice trailed off in a strangled sort of cough.   
  
  
  
"I don't know," Bill said grimly. "I don't know what it means."  
  
  
  
"Bill," Ginny ventured fearfully. "The Roberts...they aren't..."  
  
  
  
"No," he said immediately, "they're okay...maybe a little worse for the wear, but alive."  
  
  
  
Ginny sat down heavily, breathing a sigh of relief. Luckily, they'd reached the main room of the tent. Percy and Charlie were sitting in the corner-Ginny could hear Percy muttering about the carelessness of the wizards responsible for the lapse in security.   
  
  
  
"Where are the others?" Bill asked, sitting beside her.   
  
  
  
"We got separated," George said heavily.   
  
  
  
"Do you think..?" Fred began.   
  
  
  
Bill shook his head. "They're probably safer now than they have been all week," he said as confidently as he could. "The Death Eaters all apparated the second they saw the Mark. By now they're long gone." He grimaced slightly and shifted his elbow.  
  
  
  
Surprised by the motion, Ginny looked down. "You're hurt!" She exclaimed, seeing the dark spot spreading along the bottom of his arm.   
  
  
  
"I just...ran into a tree," Bill said, shrugging. "It's not deep."  
  
  
  
"Then why is it still bleeding?" Ginny demanded skeptically. She jumped up and ran into the nearest bedroom. "Here," she said, pressing the sheet she'd grabbed over his arm. "Use this."  
  
  
  
"Look at Percy!" George exclaimed.   
  
  
  
"Somebody hit him a facer!" crowed Fred.  
  
  
  
Startled, Ginny glanced over in the corner. Sure enough, Percy's nose was crusted with blood.   
  
"Another tree?" she asked dryly.   
  
  
  
"Something like that," Percy sniffed somewhat incomprehensibly.   
  
  
  
"One of the guards elbowed him accidentally," Charlie whispered. If things hadn't been so serious, Ginny would have snickered. Before anyone had thought of what to say next, Charlie perked. "Do you hear something?" Motioning to them all to be still, he crept to the edge of the tent and peered out. "Dad," he called a split second later, much to Ginny's relief. "What's going on? Fred, George, and Ginny got back okay, but the others--"  
  
  
  
"I've got them here," Dad said, ducking past Charlie to enter the tent.   
  
  
  
"Did you get them, Dad? The person who conjured the Mark?" Bill demanded, sparing no time for the prodigal friends.   
  
  
  
"No," Dad answered. He sounded like Bill, unnaturally grim. "We found Barty Crouch's elf holding Harry's wand, but we're none the wiser about who actually conjured the Mark."  
  
  
  
"What?" Ginny's older brothers chorused.   
  
  
  
"Harry's wand?" Fred repeated, dumbstruck.  
  
  
  
"Mr. Crouch's elf?" Percy said.   
  
  
  
Talking all at once, Ron, Harry, and Hermione told how Ron had stumbled. They'd gone to help him, looked around, and realized they were separated from the group. They might have followed Fred and George's strategy themselves, but while they were trying to decide what to do, they were joined by none other than Draco Malfoy, who'd been more than willing to threaten Hermione with the same treatment the Roberts were receiving. So they'd continued until Harry discovered he didn't have his wand and they stopped to look for it. While they were looking, Winky had hobbled through the bushes, obviously fighting to escape in spite of some sort of bond. At this point, the story hit a temporary diversion as Hermione launched into a hot speech about how unfair it was that House-elves couldn't do whatever they wanted.   
  
Dad eventually got her calmed down enough to let him continue where the trio had left off...The elf had run past them into the trees, they'd heard a deep voice say an incantation, and the Dark Mark had appeared in the sky. Hermione, aware of what it meant thanks to extensive reading-she interrupted here again to inform Harry she couldn't believe he still hadn't read any of the books that mentioned him-had goaded the others into moving, but before they could get very far, a party of wizards looking for the culprit had appeared, and it was only thanks to Harry's Quidditch-quick reflexes and flawless instincts that they had ducked in time to narrowly miss being Stupefied-repeatedly.   
  
  
  
At that point, Dad had intervened, only to have Mr. Crouch accuse them of conjuring the Mark. Luckily, Dad wasn't the only one who thought that was unlikely, and several wizards investigated the area where Harry, Hermione, and Ron had heard the incantation. All they found, though, was Winky. She hadn't been quick enough to avoid being Stupefied. She had Harry's wand, and she insisted she'd just found it lying in the woods and picked it up, but Mr. Diggory hadn't been inclined to believe her...and the wand-Harry's wand-had been the one that conjured the Mark. Hermione concluded lividly that Mr. Crouch had fired Winky just to make himself look better after he'd failed to institute enough security, and he had no right to blame the elf for being in the wrong place at the wrong time. Percy, naturally, refused to believe Mr. Crouch could be wrong about anything, and they were in the process of shouting at one another when Ron interrupted.   
  
  
  
"Look, can someone just explain what that skull thing was? It wasn't hurting anyone...why's it such a big deal?"  
  
  
  
"I told you, it's You-Know-Who's symbol, Ron," Hermione retorted with equal impatience. "I read about it in 'The Rise and Fall of the Dark Arts'."   
  
  
  
"And it hasn't been seen for thirteen years," Dad said heavily. "Of course people panicked...it was almost like seeing You-Know-Who back again."  
  
  
  
"I don't get it," Ron frowned. "I mean, it's still just a shape in the sky..."  
  
  
  
Ginny closed her eyes, seeing a burning green skull with a slithery tongue like a snake. Scales hit stone...she heard the scrape. She wrapped her arms around herself, shivering. //Oh, Ron...it's much more than a shape...//   
  
  
  
"Ron," Dad said flatly, his voice tense, "You-Know-Who and his followers sent the Dark Mark into the sky whenever they killed. The terror it inspired...you have no idea...you're too young."  
  
  
  
The terror was still there...in her Dad, in Bill, in the way Mr. Crouch and Mr. Diggory had reacted...in Ginny herself...it had been there along...touching all of them, hovering like a shadow, insubstantial and out of sight...but always there, waiting... the possibility...  
  
  
  
"Just picture coming home and finding the Dark Mark hovering over your home and knowing what you're about to find inside...Everyone's worst fear..the very worst..."  
  
  
  
There was a profound and chilling silence.  
  
  
  
Bill, always in control, recovered first. "Well, it didn't help us tonight, whoever conjured it-It scared the Death Eaters away the moment they saw it. They all Disapparated before we'd got near enough to unmask any of them. We caught the Robertses before they hit the ground, though. They're having their memories modified right now."  
  
  
  
"Death Eaters?" Harry asked blankly. "What are Death Eaters?"  
  
  
  
Ginny couldn't help it. She stared. She knew he'd grown up with muggles, but still...  
  
  
  
"It's what You-Know-Who's supporters called themselves," Bill said. "I think we saw what's left of them tonight-the ones who managed to keep themselves out of Azkaban anyway."  
  
  
  
"We can't prove it was them, Bill," Dad said with a hopeful note in his voice. "Though it probably was," he added, sounding suddenly defeated. Ginny shivered again.   
  
  
  
"Yeah, I bet it was!" Ron said suddenly. "Dad, we met Draco Malfoy in the woods, and he as good as told us his dad was one of those nutters in masks! And we all know the Malfoys were right in with You-Know-Who!"  
  
  
  
"But what were Voldemort's supporters--" Harry broke off as everyone but Ginny and himself winced. "Sorry. What were You-Know-Who's supporters up to, levitating Muggles. I mean, what's the point?"  
  
  
  
"The point," Dad laughed humorlessly. "Harry, that's their idea of fun."  
  
  
  
"But if they were Death Eaters," Ron said, barely waiting for the rest of Dad's explanation, "why did they Disapparate when they saw the Dark Mark? They'd have been pleased to see it, wouldn't they?"  
  
  
  
"Use your brains, Ron," Bill advised wryly. "If they really were Death Eaters, they worked hard to keep out of Azkaban when You-Know-Who lost power, and told all sorts of lies about him forcing them to kill and torture people."   
  
  
  
It made sense.   
  
  
  
Hermione must have thought so as well. "So...whoever conjured the Dark Mark...were they doing it to show support for the Death Eaters, or to scare them away?"  
  
  
  
"Your guess is as good as ours, Hermione," Dad said. "But I'll tell you this...it was only Death Eaters who ever knew how to conjure it."  
  
  
  
Ginny was still lying awake considering that when Dad came to wake them the next morning. 


	16. Looking for Luna

Disclaimer--If you like it, assume I don't own it. The Potterverse belongs to JKR, Steve Klowes, Scholastic and WB. Fanon belongs to the multitude...I'm simply paying homage with the sincerest form of flattery. Most of this scene is from GoF by JK Rowling. No copyright infringement is intended, and no money is being made.   
  
Author's Notes-- Progress has been a lot slower in this work. I hope you're still willing to stick with me anyway. As you all know, I may not own it, but I work hard, and I love it, so if you read it and enjoy it, please review it! Please don't print or post this elsewhere without my knowledge.   
  
Bee11-It is hard on Ginny to have seen so much so young, but at least she's still involved in the world around her. :-)  
  
JamieBell--Wow...what a nice compliment! Thanks. :-D I do try to give Ginny a wide emotional spectrum, I'm glad you noticed. I'm looking forward to your next review.   
  
Raiining--I'm doing my best to do justice to Ginny's maturation, but something like that isn't always easy to put into words. I hope you enjoy my attempt! She may have known what the Dark Mark looked like...a sort of subconscious memory of something she knew when Tom had a lot of control over her, but I don't think she realized it if she did...Tom is still a close fear with her, and the Mark reminded her a lot of things she identified with him. But I like that she's refused to make him such a mythical figure in her life he isn't human. She knows he's just selfish, greedy, nasty Tom, no matter how scared she is. That's strong! Thanks...I love the rapid posts, but I'd hate to burn out, too! *hugs*  
  
J.Rhaye--No problem...I'd been wanting to update for a while, but even I wasn't sure when it would happen. *makes wry face* I hope the chapters were worth the wait! (I'm glad to see you back.) I totally agree with you about Ginny seeing Harry's face...I think he's starting to see hers by book 5, but I might be wrong. (Good point about their similar relationships to Tom...I think that might be important.) I agree, Ginny knows and appreciates the dynamics of her relationships with each brother, and makes them work for her. Maybe Ron will learn that after he's had a bit more experience. Percy...I think he needs a knock on the head, but he might get it. I think Charlie is pretty great, too! ;-) *hugs*  
  
EEDOE--I couldn't resist! I HAD to slip that in there...how could you not? After all, we've all had the urge. *hugs*  
  
Bill--I am on a roll--temporarily at least--but I'll try to slow down for you to post. ;-) Ginny and Bill do indeed seem to have a special understanding...similar but not the same as the one shared by Fred and George. Have I mentioned that I really like Bill myself? *grins* Absolutely. Hermione's passion is admirable...it's the timing and expression that need work. I think she'll learn that with experience, just like Ron will learn to feel out relationships more comfortably. It is a funny mental picture to see her chosing a time like that to rant, though! *snickers* Yup...you're right...that paragraph is key. *grins* Maybe I should let YOU write for a while. *winks* And I totally agree with the idea of Ginny as a mirror for the whole wizarding community. *HUG*  
  
*****************************************************************************************************************************  
  
They caught an old rubber tire to Stoatshead Hill, and walked down the hill in the same darkness they had come up it. Only the anticipation was different, replaced with a kind of tense dread. In all her life, Ginny had never felt so happy to see the Burrow come into view.   
  
  
  
She had barely caught the first slivered glimpse of it, when Mum's familiar shout echoed from it. "Oh thank goodness, thank goodness!" She flew at them, unencumbered by the shuffling weight of her houseshoes, her tired face at odds with the nimble youthfulness of her gait. "Arthur," she gasped, gesturing with the rolled up paper she still held, "I've been so worried-so worried--"  
  
  
  
Mum flung her arms about Dad's neck, heedless of her elbows. It was an endearing picture, but there was a tone in her voice Ginny had never heard there, not even in the infirmary when she'd narrowly escaped death in the Chamber. Harry's eyes met hers as he glanced up from the headline of the paper, and she wondered if he heard it, if he remembered.   
  
  
  
"You're all right," Mum was chanting like an absent-minded mantra. "You're alive...Oh, boys..."  
  
She grabbed them even more energetically than Dad, knocking their heads together so they yelped and pulled back, swaying. "Ouch! Mum-you're strangling us--"  
  
"  
  
I shouted at you before you left!" Mum sobbed, taking no notice. "It's all I've been thinking about. What if You-Know-Who had got you, and the last thing I ever said to you was that you didn't get enough O.W.Ls? Oh Fred... George..."  
  
  
  
The twins looked dumbfounded. Even Ginny, who'd known all along that sooner or later Mum would have to realize the twins' happiness meant more to her than their success, was a little dazed. They were used to seeing Mum mad...but not like this...  
  
  
  
"Come on, now, Molly, we're all perfectly okay," Dad soothed, freeing the twins. "Bill," he murmured under his breath. "Pick up that paper, I want to see what it says."  
  
  
  
Hermione, less affected by Mum's reaction than the Weasleys, bustled around the kitchen, rummaging around until she'd managed to brew Mum a much needed-and very strong-cup of tea. Ginny wondered if Ron had ever told her it was always Mum's cure in a crisis or if it was just a lucky guess. "Here, Mrs. Weasley," she said kindly, "drink this."  
  
  
  
"Wait just a minute," Dad said, surprising everyone.   
  
  
  
"Sorry," Hermione said, obviously perplexed, "I just thought--"  
  
  
  
"And you were absolutely right," Dad assured her, patting her shoulder briefly. "I just want to add a shot of this." He brandished a large-and very dusty-glass bottle. Ginny frowned curiously, wondering what it was, but the twins recognized it immediately.   
  
"Hey! That's Ogden's Firewhiskey!"  
  
"We've had a bottle in the house all this time, and no one's ever told us!"  
  
"I can't imagine why not, aren't we members of the family?"  
  
"It's almost enough to make you think they don't consider us trustworthy!"  
  
  
  
"I know! And just imagine what we could have done with it!"  
  
  
  
"Alright, that's enough boys," Dad said firmly, but he was smiling. He added a very generous dose of it to Mum's tea, and waved his hand so the bottle vanished. The twins looked highly disappointed, but didn't say anything.   
  
Bill handed Dad the "Daily Prophet" as he took a weary seat. "I knew it...'Ministry blunders...culprits not apprehended...lax security...Dark wizards running unchecked...national disgrace...' Who wrote this?" He snorted. "Ah, of course. Rita Skeeter."  
  
Ginny glanced at Bill and made a face. He smiled faintly.   
  
"That woman's got it in for the Ministry of Magic," Percy announced hotly. "Last week she was saying we were wasting our time quibbling about cauldron thickness when we should be stamping out vampires! As if it weren't specifically stated in paragraph twelve of the Guidelines for the Treatment of Non-Wizard Part-Humans--"  
  
Still looking at Bill, Ginny rolled her eyes. "Do us a favor, Perce," Bill mumbled around a yawn, "and shut up."   
  
"I'm mentioned," Dad said.  
  
"Where?" Mum spluttered, splashing tea over everyone and part of the table. "If I'd have seen that, I'd have known you were alive!"  
  
"Not by name," Dad explained, sounding as if that didn't give him much sorrow or comfort. "Listen to this: 'If the terrified wizards and witches who waited breathlessly for news at the edge of the wood expected reassurance from the Ministry of Magic, they were sadly disappointed. A Ministry official emerged some time after the appearance of the Dark Mark alleging that nobody had been hurt, but refusing to give any more information. Whether this statement will be enough to quash rumors that several bodies were removed from the woods an hour later, remains to be seen.' Oh, really. Nobody was hurt. What was I supposed to say?" He thrust the paper impatiently at Percy, who had been dancing anxiously behind his shoulder. "Molly, I'm going to have to go into the office; this is going to take some smoothing over."  
  
That, Ginny reflected, was certainly true, but watching his face, she wondered if that was really all there was to it. If there was any information to be had about what had happened, the Ministry had to be the place to find it, and Mum and Dad both seemed to think there was more to the events of the night than unfortunate high spirits. //For that matter, she admitted to herself with a sigh, so do I.//  
  
"Mrs. Weasley," Harry interrupted, looking jumpy. "Hedwig hasn't arrived with a letter for me, has she?"  
  
"Hedwig, dear? No...no...there hasn't been any post at all," Mum murmured, clearly not paying attention. If Harry thought a letter was important, that had to mean he knew something. Ron and Hermione both knew it...they were looking at Harry as if he'd grown a third head. Fred and George were exchanging looks, and even Bill looked minorly intrigued.   
  
"All right if I go and dump my stuff in your room, Ron?" Harry asked pointedly.   
  
"Yeah, I think I will, too," Ron answered stiffly. "Hermione?"  
  
"Yes," she said quickly, and the three of them pulled hasty retreat, leaving Ginny behind them, mildly annoyed at their lack of subtlety. She thought of following, briefly, but it seemed an invasion of privacy. Anyway...Hermione would tell her later if there were anything that affected her...directly. Ginny sighed, feeling more than a little left out.   
  
Suddenly, she could stand the thought of sitting in the little kitchen, trying to pretend everything was normal. If something had happened...she had to know what was going on. She couldn't go to the Ministry, and she wouldn't eavesdrop on Harry and Ron...so she would just have to find someone else who might know something...Luna's father ran the "Quibbler". If there was a rumor, he heard it...it was his job. Feeling better now that she had something to do, Ginny stood up immediately. "I'm going to go see Luna."   
  
Her brothers were understandably unaffected by the announcement. Mum made a vague gesture of acknowledgement with her teacup. It felt strangely vulnerable to walk alone through the village of Ottery St. Catchpole, but Ginny kept telling herself she didn't notice. The cool air did help to clear her head.   
  
She finally reached the Lovegoods, only to find they hadn't gotten home yet. Disheartened, but unready to admit defeat, she sat down on the broad sandstone step of their door and waited, hoping to catch them.   
  
Eventually, she noticed the sun sinking lower in the sky so that the blue deepened, shading the landscape over. She was going to be late for dinner...and there was no telling how Mum would react then. Her legs were stiff with inaction and the coolness of the evening as she stood, brushing a hand absently across her jeans. "I'll be back tomorrow," she told the empty house, and left. 


	17. Holiday End

Disclaimer--If you like it, assume I don't own it. The Potterverse belongs to JKR, Steve Klowes, Scholastic and WB. Fanon belongs to the multitude...I'm simply paying homage with the sincerest form of flattery. Most of this scene is from GoF by JK Rowling. No copyright infringement is intended, and no money is being made.   
  
Author's Notes-- Progress has been a lot slower in this work. I hope you're still willing to stick with me anyway. As you all know, I may not own it, but I work hard, and I love it, so if you read it and enjoy it, please review it! Please don't print or post this elsewhere without my knowledge.   
  
Hairy-Hen--I think you have a point. Ginny is experienced in hiding how she feels, and Occulumency complements that. I'm glad you enjoyed the way I handled her reaction to the Mark. You make a good point about VOldemort, and I admit it might be something I could change, but I kind of tend to think she would be more likely to call him by TOm or V than anything else...and she might later use You-Know-Who just out of consideration for the audience...which she wasn't thinking about here. Thanks for the great input! :-)  
  
J.Rhaye--I'm glad you feel stuffed with good scenes. *winks* So do I. Thanks...I do like to see things from earlier chapters/stories make an appearance. It makes you feel like you're sharing a personal joke with the characters. :-) It would be funny if the strong stuff is one of those episodes...I'll have to think about it and see if anything occurs to me. I imagine Ginny's family is all a bit distracted, and they're used to her slipping off somewhere to be on her own...they probably think she's somewhere around the house. I'll take them any way I can too! *winks* *hugs*  
  
EEDOE--Your name belongs here, too. *hugs*  
  
Bill--I can't take credit for the tire, as much as I might like to. *grins* That was JK. I loved the twins reaction to the whiskey...I just couldn't resist. *snickers* Nope...Rita and the Weasleys are definitely an oil and water kind of combination. YOu're right about the tea...I hadn't thought of that. *giggles* It is surprising Ginny could stray so far...but then I've noticed the magical world seems much less protective than their muggle counterparts...the kids can do things that are a lot more dangerous without raising eyebrows! I suspect you'd fill in for me just fine, but I kind of like having this story to myself. *laughs sheepishly* *hugs*   
  
************************************************************************************************************************  
  
The Lovegoods weren't home all week.   
  
Ginny used her time in their garden to write Remus Lupin, former Defense Against the Dark Arts Professor, and her dear friend. She told him all about the events of the Quidditch, including Harry's weird behaviour afterward-she knew if Professor Lupin would tell her if he heard anything, and she felt better knowing he too was thinking about what it could mean.  
  
She would have liked to think Harry had noticed her absence during this time, but she knew he hadn't. Of course, he wasn't in the house either, most of the time. He was outside, playing Quidditch. She watched him from the upstairs window sometimes. Hermione usually sat in the garden with her nose in a book, surrounded by a dozen or more others, occasionally glancing up to shout encouragement. She tried to talk Ginny into sitting with her, but the idea left a tense hot knot in Ginny's stomach. She didn't want to sit there and watch her brothers play Quidditch without her, feeling left out. But if she asked to play and they said no... It was hard enough to be ignored by Harry as it was...but having him dismiss her ability to play Quidditch was more than she could bear.   
  
When they were in a room together, Ginny found herself at a loss for anything to say that wouldn't in some way intrude on things she wasn't supposed to know. She tried to push thoughts of the Dark Mark and what it might have to do with the events of the last year school year from her mind, but she couldn't seem to stop thinking about them. She almost resented Harry for all the things she couldn't say, just a little bit. She even spent the Sunday evening before they went back to school sitting cross-legged in the middle of living room floor, mending the spine of her much-abused copy of One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi with Spellotape, trying not to look at him at all while Percy explained why he and Dad hadn't been able to spend much time with them for the last week of their vacation. "It's been an absolutely uproar," he said importantly, "I've been putting out fires all week. People keep sending Howlers, and, of course if you don't open a Howler straight away, it explodes." Ginny grinned, remembering the Howler Ron had received from Mum at the beginning of her first year. "Scorch marks all over my desk, and my best quill reduced to cinders."  
  
"Why are they all sending Howlers?" She asked, more to prolong the distraction than from any real interest.   
  
"Complaining about security at the World Cup. They want compensation for their ruined property. Mundungus Fletcher's put in a claim for a twelve-bedroomed tent with en-suite Jacuzzi, but I've got his number," sniffed Percy. "I know for a fact he was sleeping under a cloak propped on sticks."  
  
Mum sighed. "Your father hasn't had to go into the office on weekends since the days of You-Know-Who." Ginny stiffened at the words. The Dark Mark had appeared for the first time since Voldemort's defeat. And now... "They're working him far too hard. His dinner's going to be ruined if he doesn't come home soon." Well, Ginny thought dryly, I guess that puts things in perspective. But she had to admit she was a little relieved not to see Mum taking things too seriously.   
  
"Well, Father feels he's got to make up for his mistake at the match, doesn't he? If truth be told, he was a tad unwise to make a public statement without clearing it with his Head of Department first--"  
  
Ginny nearly threw her book at him. "Don't you dare blame your father for what that wretched Skeeter woman wrote!" Mum shouted before she could.   
  
"If Dad hadn't said anything, old Rita would just have said it was disgraceful that nobody had commented," Bill said reasonably from where he was loosing-though narrowly-at chess with Ron.   
  
"Rita Skeeter never makes anyone look good. Remember she interviewed all the Gringott's Charm Breakers once and called me 'a long-haired pillock'?"  
  
"Well, it is a bit long dear," Mum insisted. "If you'd just let me--"  
  
"No, Mum."  
  
Harry grinned over the broomstick-the Firebolt-he was polishing.   
  
"What are you two up to?" Mum asked sharply.   
  
Ginny jumped, and belated realized she was talking to the twins.   
  
"Homework," Fred said unconvincingly.   
  
"Don't be ridiculous," Mum said suspiciously. "You're still on holiday."  
  
"Yeah, we've left it a bit late," George said.   
  
"You're not by any chance writing out a new order form, are you? You wouldn't be thinking of restarting Weasley's Wizard Wheezes, by any chance?"  
  
"Now, Mum," Fred chided without answering the question, "If the Hogwarts Express crashed tomorrow, and George and I died, how would you feel to know that the last thing we ever heard from you was an unfounded accusation?"  
  
Ginny was sure Mum knew he was stalling, but she laughed along with everyone else.   
  
"Oh," she exclaimed, watching the clock, "You're father's coming!" The hand with Dad's name on it had spun from "work" to "traveling", and a second later, it came to rest comfortably on "home" and they heard him calling from the kitchen. Mum ran to greet him.   
  
A few minutes later they came back into the room, Dad carrying his dinner on a tray. He looked so tired Ginny's heart twisted. "Well, the fat's in the fire now. Rita Skeeter's been ferreting around all week, looking for more Ministry mess-ups to report. And now she's found out about poor old Bertha going missing, so that'll be the headline in the Prophet tomorrow. I told Bagman he should have sent someone to look for her ages ago."  
  
"Mr. Crouch has been saying it for weeks and weeks," Percy added, and Ginny's fingers tightened thoughtfully around her book.   
  
"Crouch is very lucky Rita hasn't found out about Winky," Dad informed him irritably. "There'd be a week's worth of headlines in his house-elf being caught holding the wand that conjured the Dark Mark." Harry's wand. Ginny winced, glancing quickly in his direction. He was bent studiously over his broom, but he was listening as avidly as she was-somehow, she just knew.   
  
"I thought we all agreed that that elf, while irresponsible, did not conjure the Mark?" Percy snapped.   
  
"If you ask me," Hermione interjected with a toss of her head, "Mr. Crouch is lucky no one at the "Daily Prophet" knows how mean he is to elves!"  
  
"Now look here, Hermione, a high-ranking Ministry official deserves unswerving obedience from his servants--"  
  
  
  
"His slave, you mean-because he didn't pay Winky, did he?" Hermione said. She had a point, but Ginny remembered Hermione's own description of how Winky had pleaded not to be dismissed, and wondered if service loved so passionately could really be slavery...  
  
  
  
"I think," Mum said, surprisingly calm, "you'd all better go upstairs and check you've checked packed properly! Come on now, all of you."  
  
  
  
Hermione grabbed Ginny's hand and pulled her up the stairs, hardly even waiting to be sure they'd gathered up their books.   
  
  
  
"Can you believe...of all the nerve...I mean...honestly..."  
  
  
  
Ginny shook her head with a sigh and tried to count underwear. "Percy means well," she said, as much to herself as to Hermione. "He's just a little...Sometimes he looses sight of things because he's so ambitious."  
  
  
  
"He's too impressed with that Mr. Crouch, if you ask me," Hermione continued, handing her the stack of books Mum had bought in Diagon Alley. "There's something odd about that man. Why, I wouldn't be a bit surprised if he'd conjured the Dark Mark himself!"  
  
  
  
Ginny opened her mouth to tell her not to exaggerate, then closed it and tilted her head to the side, considering. "You know," she said slowly. "You might just have a point..."  
  
  
  
Hermione stared. "You can't be serious!"  
  
  
  
"I don't know," Ginny said, shaking her head.   
  
  
  
After that, there didn't seem to be much to say. 


	18. The Express

Disclaimer--If you like it, assume I don't own it. The Potterverse belongs to JKR, Steve Klowes, Scholastic and WB. Fanon belongs to the multitude...I'm simply paying homage with the sincerest form of flattery. Most of this scene is from GoF by JK Rowling. No copyright infringement is intended, and no money is being made.   
  
Author's Notes-- Progress has been a lot slower in this work, although this chapter might have been posted sooner if tech problems hadn't gotten in the way. *grins and shrugs* I hope you're still willing to stick with me anyway. As you all know, I may not own it, but I work hard, and I love it, so if you read it and enjoy it, please review it! Please don't print or post this elsewhere without my knowledge.   
  
Hairy-Hen--I agree, resenting the lack of return is often the beginning of the end with that sort of affection. I think you totally hit the nail on the head with the bond created between Harry and Ginny in the Chamber helping her understand him. I loved your insightful review! :-)  
  
Raiining--I like the way Hermione can be intellectual and a little crazy and impulsive at the same time. :-) I'm curious to explore that change too...even if I'm not exactly sure how I'm going to do it! ;-)  
  
J.Rhaye--Nope. The Weasleys are firm believers in the idea brothers are supposed to give you a hard time. *grins wryly* It will be interesting to see Hermione discover Ginny's hidden passion for Quidditch. Ginny's sixth sense is fun to play with *laughs*but maybe I overdo it sometimes? I'm glad you're having so much fun...it really makes the experience even more fun for me! *hugs*  
  
EEDOE--I'll get out that voodoo doll for the cable company. *winks* I'm glad you liked that description. :-) I don't know, but if you ever figure out a cure, I want to know about it! I like the way Fred and George get around Mrs. Weasley, too, but I think she notices a lot of the time and just indulges them. *snickers* I agree...Hermione's passion is to her benefit, but maybe she'll learn how to moderate it so others aren't so offput by it in the future. *laughs* Yeah...so close and yet so far...*laughs* Feels like my life sometimes. *hugs*  
  
Bill--Thanks for the heads up on the spelling. I'm not really on any heavy medication, but I have been pretty ditzy lately...bad spring allergies do that to me this time of year. *grins wryly* Anyhow, I'll try to keep a better eye on it. I'm glad to hear Ginny is keeping in touch with Remus, too. *winks* I couldn't agree more about Percy, either. One of the best things about writing is playing with words...and characters and perceptions...I couldn't resist that little touch with Hermione and Ginny suspecting Mr. Crouch. *looks sheepish* Knickers over a fence! I love that mental image!! I may have to try that sometime! *riots of giggles* *hugs*  
  
**********************************************************************************************************************  
  
Dad didn't get to go with them to the Station.   
  
  
  
Ginny didn't see what had happened, but the twins told her in the Muggle taxi that Mr. Diggory had called at breakfast and told Dad that old Mad Eye Moody had tried to jinx someone breaking into his house and the neighbors had called the 'please-men'. Moody-a retired auror was apparently supposed to start a new job that morning, and Dad had to straighten everything out for him. The twins clearly thought Moody, a retired auror with a reputation for paranoia, had gone round the bend completely, but Ginny wasn't so sure...Her strange feeling of foreboding, the Dark Mark, Dad working weekends, an attack on Moody...somehow they all seemed tied together. Or maybe she was just developing her own sense of paranoia. She wished she could talk to Bill without the twins. Or maybe she didn't...she had no idea what to say.   
  
  
  
It was hot in the cab, and very crowded. She tumbled into the rain outside King's Cross with a sense of great relief. Harry, Hermione, and Ron looked most out of place by far in the Station with Crookshanks (cats, from what Hermione had told her were odd enough in a train station, and, somehow, Crookshanks didn't quite look like an ordinary cat), Pigwidgeon (who was at least small enough to be hidden), and Hedwig (no muggle would ever have an owl, let alone one quite so magnificent), so they went through the barrier to Platform 9 3/4 first. Ginny watched them with a vague feeling of déjà vu. She could almost see herself watching Harry the first time she'd ever seen him, she could see the pen tracing her description of the scene across the pages of Tom's diary.   
  
  
  
She was grateful to shake off the past and push through the wall between platforms 9 and 10 to the distraction of the handsome train. She finally managed to find Luna in one of the compartments, and it was mostly empty. She said a hurried hello and stashed her bags in the compartment overhead before hurrying out to say a last goodbye to Mum, Bill, and Charlie. Percy had gone to work instead.   
  
  
  
"Stay out of trouble, kid," Bill said, chucking her under the chin affectionately. Ginny grinned evilly and wiggled her eyebrows at him. "You wish," she said, making him laugh.   
  
  
  
"I'll miss you, dear," Mum said, kissing the top of her head.  
  
  
  
"I might be seeing you all sooner than you think," Charlie teased.  
  
  
  
"Why?" Fred asked.   
  
  
  
"You'll see," Charlie said with a grin. "Just don't tell Percy I mentioned it. It's 'classified information, until such time as the Ministry sees fit to release it', after all."  
  
  
  
"Yeah, I sort of wish I were back at Hogwarts this year," Bill sighed, burying his hands in his pockets and gazing longingly at the train.   
  
  
  
"Why?" George said impatiently.   
  
  
  
"You're going to have an interesting year," Bill told them with sparkling eyes. "I might even get time off to come and watch a bit of it..."  
  
  
  
"A bit of what?" Ron said as the whistle blew, but Mum herded them back through the train doors.   
  
  
  
"Thanks for having us to stay, Mrs. Weasley," Hermione said politely.   
  
  
  
"Yeah," Harry said awkwardly but with sincerity. "Thanks for everything, Mrs. Weasley."  
  
  
  
"Oh, it was my pleasure, dears," said Mum cheerfully. "I'd invite you for Christmas, but...well, I expect you're all going to want to stay at Hogwarts, what with...one thing and another."  
  
  
  
"Mum! What d'you three know that we don't?" Ron wanted to know.  
  
  
  
"You'll find out this evening, I expect," Mum assured him. "It's going to be very exciting-mind you I'm very glad they've changed the rules--"  
  
  
  
"What rules?" Fred, George, Harry, and Ron asked at once. Ginny grinned and looked at Hermione, who rolled her eyes.   
  
  
  
"I'm sure Professor Dumbledore will tell you...Now behave, won't you? Won't you, Fred? And you, George?"  
  
  
  
The train creaked into motion.   
  
  
  
"Tell us what's happening at Hogwarts!" Fred bellowed out the window. "What rules are they changing?"  
  
  
  
Mum only waved. Ginny sighed, shrugged, and went back to Luna, ready for a talk long delayed.   
  
Their mutual friend Bion Alderly, the son of an old friend of Ginny's Dad and Luna's fellow Ravenclaw, had already arrived. "Hey, Ginny!" He greeted enthusiastically. Ginny hugged him without hesitation, then pulled back to ask, "Tell me we aren't sharing our compartment with your Quidditch team?"  
  
  
  
"Nope," Bion said, with a grin, "Not this year."  
  
  
  
Ginny gave a sigh of relief and plopped down on the seat next to him, facing Luna. "So, what did you think of the World Cup?"  
  
  
  
"It was fantastic!" Bion enthused immediately. "I especially loved that part where they tried the Reverse Twiggly Twist!"   
  
  
  
Discussing Quidditch was anything but a hardship, especially with her partners in cheering, but Ginny was relieved when the conversation finally drifted to the appearance of the Dark Mark. "So..." she said, trying to be casual, "Do you think it was supposed to be a joke? Just people goofing off, or what?"  
  
  
  
Bion eyed her shrewdly, as if asking himself why she wanted to know, and shrugged. "If it was supposed to be a joke, it wasn't very funny."  
  
  
  
"No," Ginny said flatly, looking him straight in the eye, "it wasn't."   
  
  
  
"My dad says it wasn't meant to be funny," Luna said, her eyes wide in her pale face. "It was a sign You-Know-Who is coming back."  
  
  
  
"You-Know-Who is dead," Bion objected flatly.   
  
  
  
"Not entirely," Ginny said, her voice just a bit faint. "He possessed some Professor the year before we started school and tried to steal--" She broke off as they both stared at her. "My brother told me?" After a few seconds consideration, they seemed willing to accept, if not entirely believe, the explanation. "He's weak, but he's not dead-what were you saying, Luna?"  
  
  
  
"That the Ministry knew the Death Eaters were going to be there. My Dad says they conjured the Dark Mark with the full permission of the Ministry."  
  
  
  
"Don't be ridiculous," Bion snorted at the same time Ginny sat straight up and demanded, "What? Why?"  
  
  
  
Luna shrugged vaguely. "Because Fudge wanted an excuse to build up his private army, and no one's going to object if they think he might need it to fight You-Know-Who."  
  
  
  
"Fudge has a secret army?" Bion said skeptically, crossing his arms and leaning back against the seat. "I don't think so."  
  
  
  
"So what do you call hundreds of--" Luna broke off as the lunch trolley arrived, and they moved on to filling themselves full of sweets and playing various games like gobstones, chess, and exploding snap. Sometimes it was a relief just to be a kid. 


	19. Tuck In

Disclaimer--If you like it, assume I don't own it. The Potterverse belongs to JKR, Steve Klowes, Scholastic and WB. Fanon belongs to the multitude...I'm simply paying homage with the sincerest form of flattery. Most of this scene is from GoF by JK Rowling. No copyright infringement is intended, and no money is being made.   
  
Author's Notes-- Progress has been a lot slower in this work, although this chapter might have been posted sooner if tech problems hadn't gotten in the way. *grins and shrugs* I hope you're still willing to stick with me anyway. As you all know, I may not own it, but I work hard, and I love it, so if you read it and enjoy it, please review it! Please don't print or post this elsewhere without my knowledge.   
  
Hairy_Hen--You make a great point about the parallels between the twins wanting to know what was happening at Hogwarts in GoF and wanting to know about the Order in OotP. I hadn't really noticed before, but it makes perfect sense now that you mention it! I'm glad you thought Luna and Bion's reactions were in character...I really wanted them to be, but it was hard to know what they might say. *grins sheepishly*  
  
J.Rhaye--You caught me. I used to be a fan of the X-files myself...which is probably why I'm channeling Mulder and Scully! *laughs* I hadn't even noticed. Like you, I just love watching Bion and Luna's opposing opinions balance each other out so perfectly. It is a relief to have Ginny feeling natural instead of out-of-place for once! *hugs*  
  
EEDOE--Oh, definite twin-channeling there. I just love that mental image. *giggles* It is nice to see Bion again...I think I neglect him. I need to work at a way to fit him in more often. Government conspiracy seemed like one of Luna's prefered topics, so...*grins* I have to admit, I'm pretty proud of how I worked it in. *snickers* Yeah, I wish I could just be a kid. *winks* *hugs*  
  
Bill--Mad-eye Ginny? *giggles* I'm tempted to have someone call her that sometime...possibly one of the twins...Just because she's paranoid doesn't mean You-Know-Who isn't out to get her. *winks* You described my mental image of Harry at the Weasley's perfectly. Happy to be part of the group, and completely at a loss as to how to show it. *grins* It's really quite endearing, if a bit sad. You make an excellent point about Ginny looking to HERMIONE and not Harry...*laughs* perhaps the conscious idea was that there are some things women just naturally understand? Subconsciously...perhaps Ginny is starting to worry a bit less about whether or not Harry is thinking what she is? Certainly his reaction would be more like hers...though I love the way Hermione's eye roll shows disapproval indulgently softened. *grins* Bion is indeed a skeptic to Luna's believer...I like pairing them together for that reason, though it seems Luna has a bit of crush on Ron in book 5...I also like the way they show the diversity available in being intelligent.*grins* *hugs*  
  
***************************************************************************************************************************  
  
The wind and rain were so strong that Ginny could feel herself being blown away across the cobblestones as she emerged from the horseless carriage. Bion and Luna each caught one of her arms, holding her in place, and she slumped against them in relief. "Thanks."  
  
  
  
"No problem," Bion assured her, giving her arm a squeeze.   
  
  
  
Ahead of them, students streamed up the broad stone steps and through massive doors like gates. They followed as best they could, listing sideways in the wind. They barely made it into the clammy shelter of the entry hall in time to see a bright red water balloon hurtle into the crowd in front of them. People shrieked, pushing sideways and backwards, until Ginny began to worry about being pushed back into the storm. She tried not to think about what would happen if they hit a wall instead.   
  
  
  
"PEEVES," Professor McGonagall's voice cracked like a whip. "Peeves, come down here at ONCE!" She slid across the floor with a soft swoosh that made Ginny think she was kicking up a wave of water , scrabbling at the crowd with open hands to stop her forward momentum. "Ouch-sorry, Miss Granger--"   
  
  
  
Ginny didn't hear much of a response, and craned her neck, trying to bring Hermione into sight without much luck. "Peeves, get down here NOW!" Without further ado, Professor McGonagall returned to the issue at hand.   
  
  
  
"Not doing nothing!" Peeves protested, tossing another balloon. Several girls near the line of fire shrieked and dived into the next room. "Already wet, aren't they? Little squirts! Wheee!" And he aimed another bomb at a group of second years who'd just struggled inside. They looked decidedly taken aback. Ginny wished she could assure them that everything was all right-business as usual at Hogwarts.   
  
  
  
"I shall call the Headmaster," Professor McGonagall threatened, wisely refusing to argue the point. "I'm warning you, Peeves--"  
  
  
  
The poltergeist stuck his tongue in the air, lobbed the last of his balloons into the air, and zoomed off up the marble stair. "Well," said Professor McGonagall. "Move along, then! Into the Great Hall, come on!" The crowd surged forward like a wave, slopping wetly into place. Unlike the students, most of whom looked decidedly bedraggled, the Great Hall looked wonderful, bright, dry, and warm.   
  
  
  
Ginny left Bion and Luna situated at the Ravenclaw table, and made her way to the far end of the room to collapse gratefully, sandwiched between Fred and George. Lee beamed across from her. "Hey, there, Ginger."  
  
  
  
"Hey, Jordan," Ginny said, beaming. She'd missed him, but the twins might be surprised to hear it-they'd only played a prank together. Or so the twins thought...Lee had actually been a friend since her first year, confidante, protector, and self-appointed mentor. "How was your summer?"  
  
  
  
"Great," Lee said with a broad grin that always made her melt. "How could it be anything else with the World Cup?"   
  
  
  
A fragment of memory stirred, and Ginny glanced at George. He caught her looking at him and shook his head very slightly. /Not now./ She held his eyes a few seconds to let him know she understood, and asked Lee for his opinion on the Irish Chasers. They were happily occupied in discussing the finer points of Quidditch, which, Ginny realized with a wry grin, seemed to be the only thing she talked about anymore, with input from Fred and George, interrupted only by cracks of thunder that issued occasionally from the enchanted ceiling, until Professor McGonagall led the First Years through the Great Hall doors.  
  
  
  
Ginny knew Lee and her brothers-most of the students-probably thought the First Years looked young and ridiculous pale and shivering with a combination of cold and fear, but when she saw them she thought they had the right idea, an idea that made a lump form in her throat. Luckily, everyone was watching them and not her. Professor McGonagall set out the stool and the old, tattered Sorting Hat.   
  
  
  
It sang the new song it had written throughout the course of the year, and Ginny was once again impressed, as she was every year, at how very resourceful and intelligent it seemed for a hat. She wondered what Professor Dumbledore would tell her if she asked to sit down and have a conversation with it. She wondered what it would say about Tom Riddle and Lord Voldemort, but she didn't suppose she'd ever have a chance to find out. Heaving an only partially disappointed sigh-sometimes it was better not to know what was coming-Ginny tried to focus her attention on Professor McGonagall and her long scroll of new students.  
  
  
  
CREEVY, DENNIS, a boy even shorter than Ginny, who could only be Colin's brother, became a Gryffindor. Ginny watched him with half-hearted interest as he made his way to the table. He was wearing Hagrid's massive moleskin coat. She blinked.   
  
  
  
At length, the Sorting Ceremony was finally finished. Professor McGonagall cleared the Hat and stool away as Professor Dumbledore rose to his feet. He smiled, holding his arms out in welcome. Ginny wanted to step right into a hug meant just for her. She shook the feeling off as best she could, knowing the gesture was meant for everyone. "I have only two words to say to you," he said in the voice of profound depth that belonged only to him. "Tuck in."   
  
  
  
"Hear, Hear," Fred said, his mouth already full of roast beef, as he pounded on the table with his fist.   
  
  
  
Very little demanded her attention, everyone around her was completely focused on the feast, and Ginny was more than willing to join in. The loud clang echoing down the table startled her so badly, she nearly tumbled backward off the bench. George caught her with his arm, still clutching a drumstick. 


	20. An Exciting Year

Disclaimer--If you like it, assume I don't own it. The Potterverse belongs to JKR, Steve Klowes, Scholastic and WB. Fanon belongs to the multitude...I'm simply paying homage with the sincerest form of flattery. Most of this scene is from GoF by JK Rowling. No copyright infringement is intended, and no money is being made.   
  
Author's Notes-- Progress has been a lot slower in this work. I hope you're still willing to stick with me anyway. As you all know, I may not own it, but I work hard, and I love it, so if you read it and enjoy it, please review it! Please don't print or post this elsewhere without my knowledge.  
  
JamieBell--Thanks! I think it's great you noticed the limitations of George's gallantry. I've known very few guys that age that weren't obsessed with food! *laughs*  
  
Raiining-- You make a very good point about that sentence--it's not very clear. Even though Ginny thinks most of the other students would assume the first years have nothing to be afraid of, she thinks there are a lot of things to be afraid of in life at Hogwarts--or anywhere else. :-) I hope class went well. Thanks for reviewing!  
  
J. Rhaye--I know you'll get here eventually, so thanks for reading. ;-) *hugs*  
  
EEDOE--You have a point, but comedy or not, Peeves isn't so great if you have to live with him! *grins* The twins can be terrors, but I think they're intensely loyal and--if you know how to read between their jokes--supportive, which makes them wonderful men. Thanks. I didn't consciously plan it, but now I love the parallel and the way the two balance out. *grins sheepishly* You're wonderful! ;-) *hugs*   
  
Bill--Do people say that a lot about Harry? It makes sense...I hadn't really thought of it, let alone of Bion and Luna that way, but it's a great (and fairly accurate) idea. *grins* I do think Bion fancies Ginny to some degree though Ginny hasn't really noticed. On the other hand, I don't think he's ready to do anything about it...and he does spend a lot of time with Luna...As for Lee Jordan...that is indeed an interesting front...I like your analysis of the way Ginny appears to the guys at Hogwarts. *grins impishly* Wow...your enthusiasm about the Hat has me taking that little paragraph more seriously! *laughs* Now that you mention it, Ginny does get a lot of support in 19...that wasn't an intentional statement at the time, either, but now I realize it's another parallel/balance between her and Harry, who doesn't receive much support from Ron in GoF, and is unwilling to ask for support in OotP. *muses* I wonder what else is banging around my subconscious? It was nice to see Ginny's school friends again, wasn't it? *hugs*  
  
****************************************************************************************************************************  
  
"That didn't sound like lightning!" Ginny gasped, already resigned to the loss of dignity.   
  
  
  
"Cause it wasn't," Fred said cheerfully.  
  
  
  
Ginny stared into space...or, more accurately, directly into Lee's face. He shrugged. "Hermione knocked her goblet over," he explained, pointing.   
  
  
  
Ginny looked down the length of the table. Hermione's goblet was indeed over on its side, surrounded by a widening splash of orange Harry dabbed at surreptiously with his napkin. Hermione didn't seem to notice. She was leaning toward Nearly Headless Nick as if hanging on his every word, saying something with such animation her waving hands nearly hit poor Neville.   
  
  
  
"What's that supposed to mean?"  
  
  
  
"Offhand, I would say it's something about House-elves," George said, shrugging.  
  
  
  
Immediately, Ginny knew he was probably right. "What makes you say that?"  
  
  
  
"Been unusually aerated on the subject lately, has Hermione," Fred said.   
  
  
  
Lee looked rather nonplussed. "WHY?"  
  
  
  
Chuckling, Fred and George began to relate the story of Winky.   
  
  
  
"She means well," Ginny scolded them through a mouthful of chocolate gateau.  
  
  
  
On either side, her brother stopped and gave her a strange look. "Course she does," George agreed easily. "Whoever said she didn't?" Fred asked. Ginny rolled her eyes.   
  
  
  
"So," Professor Dumbledore smiled, "Now that we are all fed and watered, I must ask once more for your attention, while I give out a few notices. Mr. Filch, the caretaker, has asked me to tell you that the list of objects forbidden inside the castle has this year been extended to include Screaming Yo-Yos, Fanged Frisbees, and Ever-Bashing Boomerangs. The full list comprises some four hundred and thirty-seven items, I believe, and can be viewed in Mr. Filch's office, if anybody would like to check it." The twins smirked as Lee rubbed his hands together and winked.   
  
  
  
"As ever, I would like to remind you all that the forest on the grounds is out-of-bounds to students, as is the village of Hogsmeade to all below Third Year." Mum had taken care of their school supplies, so Ginny hadn't even seen the permission slip. Of course, she'd known her brothers had all made trips to Hogsmeade, but she hadn't really stopped to think about the fact that she could too now that she was starting her third year.  
  
  
  
She was so distracted, she hardly heard what Dumbledore said next, and was left absolutely at a loss for the cause of Harry's sudden "What?" That made her heart stop in her chest. He was staring at Fred and George as if willing them to tell him he hadn't heard correctly. Ginny couldn't recall the last time she had seen their mouths move with nothing coming out. Once again, she turned to Lee for an explanation. He looked Stupified. "Quidditch," he gasped as if on his last breath. She tipped her head to the side and raised an eyebrow slightly. Yeah, what about it? "He's cancelled--"  
  
  
  
Ginny whipped her head around toward Dumbledore so fast it gave her whiplash. "-event that will be starting in October and continuing throughout the school year, taking up much of the teachers' time and energy-but I am sure you all will enjoy it immensely."   
  
  
  
"Not," Ginny ground out through clenched teeth, "as much as Quidditch." Lee, Fred, and George applauded and stamped their feet, but without much energy, and she was glad. She wouldn't want Dumbledore to think they were cheering the omission.   
  
  
  
"I have great pleasure in announcing that this year at Hogwarts--"  
  
  
  
The doors to the Great Hall thundered open, drowning out not only Dumbledore, but the storm in the enchanted ceiling above him.   
  
  
  
A man stood in the doorway, leaning upon a long staff in a manner that seemed almost...menacing.   
  
He lowered his hood, shaking out a long, scraggly mane of hair that reminded Ginny of posters of Sirius Black, and started toward the teachers' table, clunking loudly with every other step. Ginny shuddered without knowing why.   
  
  
  
The ceiling flashed with lightning, illuminating the man's face. It was heavily scarred, rough and grizzled, like a house that hadn't been painted in years. The man's nose undulated as if it were a slice of melon that had been partially eaten, and his mouth looked like the barb of lightning. Even stranger, he had one small beady eye that reminded Ginny of the gnomes in the family garden, and one that was larger than a snitch, round and flat, and impossibly, unnaturally blue. It moved randomly in every direction so that watching it made her feel vaguely sick, as if she were on the Leviathan. The hand he offered to Dumbledore was equally battered and beaten, but Dumbledore took it without hesitation, and Ginny's stomach settled a bit.   
  
  
  
The odd-looking stranger sat down, sniffed a platter of sausages suspiciously and began to eat, blue eye still staring at the students. "May I introduce our new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher?" Dumbledore said as if this sort of thing happened every year, if not every day. Ginny scowled. She hated the reminder that the previous Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher, her beloved Professor Lupin, wasn't returning to Hogwarts this year. She knew that had been his choice, and she shouldn't hold it against Moody, but she just wasn't sure she could manage not to.   
  
  
  
A good many students-as well as staff-must have felt the same. It was only polite to applaud, but no one did. Except Dumbledore, and dear, loyal, Hagrid. The sound echoed in the Hall's expanse, and they stopped abruptly.   
  
  
  
"Moody," George said ruminatively. "The one dad went to help?"  
  
  
  
"Yeah, he must be-I guess," Fred said, a bit non-plussed.  
  
  
  
"I don't think we've ever seen him before, have we?"  
  
  
  
"Probably not...we'd remember that face."  
  
  
  
Moody ignored the silence and the low speculative murmur that replaced it. He was swigging cheerfully out of a silver flask he'd pulled from a pocket, and Ginny wondered if he was getting drunk and whether or not anyone would be able to tell the difference. This year was not going at all as expected.   
  
  
  
"As I was saying," Dumbledore continued, and even he sounded a bit off-balance, "We are to have the honour of hosting a very exciting event over the coming months, an event that has not been held for over a century. It is my very great pleasure to inform you that the Triwizard Tournament will be taking place at Hogwarts this year."  
  
  
  
"You're JOKING!" Fred shouted.  
  
  
  
The Hall exploded with much-needed laughter. "I am not joking, Mr. Weasley," Dumbledore chuckled.   
  
"Though now that you mention it, I did hear an excellent one over the summer about a troll, a hag, and a leprechaun who all go into a bar..."  
  
  
  
Professor McGonagall cleared her throat, reminding Ginny of Hermione.   
  
  
  
"Er-but maybe this is not the time...no..." Dumbledore agreed. "Where was I? Ah yes, the Triwizard Tournament...well, some of you will not know what this tournament involves, so I hope those who do will forgive for giving a short explanation, and allow their attention to wander freely. The Triwizard Tournament was first established some seven hundred years ago as a friendly competition between the three largest European schools of wizardy: Hogwarts, Beauxbatons, and Durmstrang. A champion was selected to represent each school, and the three champions competed in three magical tasks. The schools took it turns to host the tournament once every five years, and it was generally agreed to be a most excellent way of establishing ties between young witches and wizards of different nationalities-until, that is, the death toll mounted so high that the tournament was discontinued."  
  
  
  
Ginny whistled under her breath. //So that's what everyone kept hinting about-they're right, this I want to see.// But along with the curiosity and excitement came a heavy tension that weighted down her stomach. The Triwizard Tournament sounded almost as big as the World Cup, and look what had happened at that. The idea of the Tournament being dangerous didn't bother her, but what if the Dark Mark appeared...or worse?  
  
  
  
"I'm going for it," Fred hissed excitedly, and she realized she was the only one who was worried. She hated being different, hated being afraid, hating seeing danger when everyone else saw only fun. Surely if the Tournament weren't safe, Dumbledore would never allow it. She needed to just relax and act her age. She took a deep breath and forced it slowly through her nose.   
  
  
  
"Eager though I know all of you will be to bring the Triwizard Cup to Hogwarts," continued Dumbledore, "the heads of the participating schools, along with the Ministry of Magic, have agreed to impose an age restriction on contenders this year. Only students who are of age-that is seventeen years or older-will be allowed to put forward their names for consideration."   
  
  
  
"Oh," groaned Lee, "come on!" Fred and George were growling.   
  
  
  
"This is a measure we feel is necessary," Dumbledore said firmly, "Given that the Tournament tasks will still be difficult and dangerous, whatever precautions we take, and it is unlikely that students below sixth and seventh year will be able to cope with them." Ginny nodded. She thought he sounded very reasonable. Fred, George, and Lee were still glowering. "I will personally be ensuring that no underage student hoodwinks our impartial judge into making them Hogwarts champion. I therefore beg you not to waste your time submitting yourself if you are under seventeen."   
  
  
  
Ginny shrugged and leaned back as much as she could on the bench. "Fine by me," she said, and meant it. She'd had more than enough danger and excitement to last her a lifetime. For once, she'd be glad to watch someone else deal with them instead. And, in spite of her determination not to loose her youth to fear, she was just as glad that someone would not be Harry.   
  
  
  
"The delegations from Beauxbatons and Durmstrang will be arriving in October, and remaining with us for the greater part of this year," Dumbledore said. "I know you will extend every courtesy to our foreign guests while they are with us, and will give your whole-hearted support to the Hogwarts champion when he or she is selected. And now, it is late, and I know how important it is to all of you to be alert and rested as you enter your lessons tomorrow morning. Bedtime! Chop chop!" Without further ado, Dumbledore sat down to talk to Professor Moody.   
  
  
  
Ginny glanced at her brothers, but they didn't seem interested in moving. Shrugging, she left by herself, more than ready for the day to end. It had been far too exciting. 


	21. A BangUp Start

Disclaimer--If you like it, assume I don't own it. The Potterverse belongs to JKR, Steve Klowes, Scholastic and WB. Fanon belongs to the multitude...I'm simply paying homage with the sincerest form of flattery. Most of this scene is from GoF by JK Rowling. No copyright infringement is intended, and no money is being made.   
  
Author's Notes-- Progress has been a lot slower in this work. I hope you're still willing to stick with me anyway. As you all know, I may not own it, but I work hard, and I love it, so if you read it and enjoy it, please review it! Please don't print or post this elsewhere without my knowledge.  
  
JamieBell--I think I know what you mean. I've always felt a little different than the others around me, as if I were seeing my life from a greater distance or something, which made me feel very out of place. And my boyfriend is always telling me I worry too much--he doesn't realize I worry about stuff so it WON'T happen! Thanks so much for your support! *hugs*  
  
Raiining--Indeed it does. *chuckles evilly and rubs hands together while wiggling eyebrows* Indeed it does. *grins and winks*  
  
J. Rhaye--I knew you weren't far behind! *hugs* The bit about the hat is turning out to be more significant than I realized! *laughs* I think that's great! I'm having a lot of fun with Ginny's interactions, too. :-) I couldn't agree with you more about Hermione. I think Ginny's good at controlling her reactions...partly because of Occulmency, and partly just because she learned the hard way that being too open leaves you vulnerable...so I suspect it's not really a huge black mark against her brothers that they didn't notice her disappointment. Exactly. She sees the danger instead of the fun. In a lot of ways, she's already lost her youth, the way Harry starts to loose his in GoF. *sighs* It's very sad, but it does suit them to understanding each other...and, as you say, they just are meant for normal, quiet lives. *hugs*  
  
EEDOE--Ginny and the twins are indeed a trio. I've only lately realized that while Harry only has one trio, I've managed to give Ginny three...which is...interesting. *grins and shrugs* Ah, the banned list. *smirks* I'm sure the twins look on it as a monument to their greatness. *winks* Oooh...poor Oliver! He'd have had to be revived! As for Dumbledore...*grins* I still think that he allows a lot of things to happen simply so he can laugh about them later. *giggles* But maybe I'm projecting. *winks* *hugs*   
  
Bill--I love the phrase "unusually aerated". *grins* You make an excellent and very important point about Hermione. She and Umbridge do have similar tendencies in common...and how Hermione begins to deal with those tendencies, now and in the future, determines whether she will be more like Umbridge or Professor McGonagall in the future. It's a great example of the road to hell paved with good intentions, and therefore I find it quite likely to be a deliberate point JKR is making. *grins and shrugs* It will be interesting to see Ginny's reaction to Hermione's overbearing tendency...and even more interesting to see those ramifications you expect in book 6. *winks* Ginny does tend to be rather prescient...but, then, so does Ron...maybe it runs in the family.*coughs and looks innocent* As for how much is just coincidence and how much is real...I'd love to say it was for me to know and you to find out, but I'm not sure I do know! *looks sheepish* I want to know the rest of that joke, too! It does sound truly awful. *giggles* *hugs*  
  
****************************************************************************************************************************  
  
"Ginny!" Hermione burst into the room, scattering sleep. "Do you know what Nearly Headless Nick told me?" Ginny stifled a yawn and struggled to come up to speed as Hermione charged on full tilt ahead. "You'll never guess…I mean "Hogwarts: A History" never even mentions…not once in a thousand pages…House-elves," Hermione said expansively. Ginny had known this conversation was coming, but she had hoped it would wait until morning. Optimistically, as she now realized. "Hundreds. Hogwarts employs them." Hermione snorted, pushing her bushy hair out of her face with her hands before commencing to wave them around for emphasis, nearly knocking over Patricia Hart as she tried to come in. "Employs! More like enslaves! I mean, honestly, can you imagine?" The rest of Ginny's roommates eased around Hermione, eyeing her a bit warily.   
  
  
  
"Well," Ginny spoke as cautiously as they moved, "actually…I can. Lots of old and important magical dwellings have them, and--" she plunged in, feeling as though she were attempting the verbal equivalent of picking her way through a swap infested with hinkypucks, "Hogwarts is a castle, Hermione. It's about as old, important, and magical as you can get--"  
  
  
  
"What are you trying to say?" Hermione snapped.   
  
  
  
"Hermione," Ginny said, annoyed to find she was using what sounded like Mum's "be-reasonable" voice, "Don't you think you're over-reacting just a bit?"  
  
  
  
"Oh, come on, Ginny," Tempest Zabini said with enthusiasm. "How can she help it? It's the Triwizard Tournament! Here! And we're going to see it! Lighten up, already!"  
  
  
  
"Yeah," gushed Leonore Lyman. "That's why we're getting back so late—the whole school spent ages standing around just discussing what it will be like! It's so exciting!"  
  
  
  
"Hey, Hermione," added Patricia, "Who do you think Hogwarts' School Champion will be?"  
  
  
  
"Yeah!" Leonore exclaimed. "I bet you already know, don't you, Hermione? We're always telling everybody you know everything."  
  
  
  
"Umm," Hermione responded intelligently. "Well…"  
  
  
  
"Would you look at the time?" Tempest said in surprise. "It really is quite late."  
  
  
  
"Classes start tomorrow!" gasped Hermione, the perfect image of horrified embarrassment. "What if we don't get enough sleep and someone falls asleep in class? We might miss something important! See you tomorrow, Ginny!"  
  
  
  
"Hey, are okay," Tempest asked Ginny as she stared at Hermione's suddenly-empty spot, feeling flattened. "It sounded like you two might be having a fight or something."  
  
  
  
Tempest Zabini had been a friend of Ginny's ever since her first year, when she had felt isolated and ignored by everyone but Tom. Ginny knew she meant well, but she couldn't help remembering the way Tempest had delighted in spreading Remus Lupin's painful secret at the end of the year before. Professor Lupin had been the kindest, gentlest, most dedicated teacher Ginny had ever known, and the thought still filled her with a twinge of annoyance, especially now, when she saw the other girls watching them with carefully concealed interest. "It wasn't a fight," she said as casually as she could, hoping Hermione knew that.  
  
  
  
Cauldron-colored clouds still roiled across the Great Hall's enchanted ceiling when Ginny stumbled down to breakfast clutching the coffee mug that had been a treasured possession ever since she'd received it from Tempest and Colin. Hermione seemed a little unwilling to look her in the eye—though that might have been preoccupation with the course schedule she'd just been handed by Professor McGonagall—but otherwise amiable. Ginny decided to be satisfied with that as she filled her mug and helped herself to eggs and sausage, nearly missing her own schedule in the process.   
  
  
  
Charms, Transfiguration, and Potions on Mondays and Wednesdays, Herbology, Care of Magical Creatures, and Defense Against the Dark Arts on Tuesdays. Ancient Runes and Astronomy on Thursdays, and a second Astronomy class Professor Sinistra had given her permission to take on Fridays.   
  
  
  
She had Herbology with Ravenclaw instead of Hufflepuff, and happy as she was at the prospect of spending time with Luna and Bion, the idea of facing Snape without them filled her with dread until she realized she had Potions with them as well. She had Care of Magical Creatures with Hufflepuff, and nothing at all with Slytherin, which prospect nearly made Ron faint in jealousy. Ginny herself breathed a quick sigh of relief. It looked like a good schedule. She was looking forward to it…but she still wished she didn't have to face Snape on Mondays.  
  
  
  
Charms and Transfiguration were interesting and uneventful, but Potions turned out to be even worse than Ginny had expected. Professor Snape ordered them to brew a Scintillating Solution, and when most of the class had trouble—as he'd known all along they would—he spent the rest of the period raving about how much they'd forgotten over holiday and how hopeless they were to teach. By the time he finally released them to go to dinner, Ginny's head was pounding.   
  
  
  
She was rubbing her temples, only half-listening to Bion and Luna's latest good-natured squabble, when she heard a sneering voice she seldom encountered but clearly remembered from somewhere behind them. "Weasley! Hey, Weasley!" Even though she had no desire whatsoever to talk to Draco Malfoy, she turned instinctively, but all she saw were the people directly behind her.   
  
  
  
"Your dad's in the paper, Weasley," the unpleasantly familiar voice said even more loudly. "Listen to this! FURTHER MISTAKES AT THE MINISTRY OF MAGIC."   
  
  
  
Ginny didn't need to hear the tag line to know Rita Skeeter was responsible for writing it. That was one reporter she would love to swat, not that she'd ever have the chance. She sighed. The article claimed Arnold Weasley was responsible for involving the Ministry in a potential embarrassment by running interference with the muggle policemen for an obviously senile Mad-Eye Moody. "Imagine them not even getting his name right, Weasley. It's almost as though he's a complete non-entity, isn't it?"  
  
  
  
At that very moment, Ginny decided revenge on Draco Malfoy.  
  
  
  
"We'll help," Luna said cheerily, even though Ginny hadn't said a word about her intentions. "Right, Bion?"  
  
  
  
"Uh," Bion said, blank but game, "Sure?"  
  
  
  
Ginny wrapped an arm around each of them in a grateful hug as Malfoy continued, "And there's a picture, Weasley! A picture of your parents outside their house—if you can call it a house! Your mother could do with losing a bit of weight, couldn't she?"  
  
  
  
Ginny knew her face was red, but for once it wasn't the color of embarrassment. It was rage. Pure and unadulterated. "I think," Bion said quietly, "this calls for the big guns—this calls for the twins." He'd apparently caught on to what Luna had been saying.   
  
  
  
"Oh!" Luna said, clapping her hands together with delight, "I haven't seen them in ages."  
  
  
  
"Oh yeah, you were staying with them this summer, weren't you, Potter," Malfoy was still sneering, "So tell me, is his mother really that porky, or is it the picture?"  
  
  
  
"You know your mother, Malfoy?" Harry's reply came to her faintly, a thing more felt than sensed, like his presence could be. "That expression she's got like she's got dung under her nose? Has she always looked like that, or was that just because you were with her?"  
  
  
  
A loud bang echoed through the Entrance Hall, as if Ginny's head had finally exploded. Several people screamed, the sound nearly drowned out by another head-burstingly loud bang. People pushed in from all sides, making Ginny feel as though she were being trampled. She threw out her hands and pushed back without the slightest hesitation. The crowd didn't seem to notice, but at least she had some space.   
  
  
  
"OH NO YOU DON'T, LADDIE," boomed an unfamiliar voice. Professor Moody was on the staircase. The hall became so silent Ginny could hear his wooden leg click against the marble as he walked toward the source of the disturbance. "LEAVE IT!" Of what or to whom Moody might be speaking was ridiculously unclear. "I don't think so!" Suddenly Ginny, who couldn't see anything, saw something white flash over the crowd, and plummet ponderously toward the floor before shooting upward again. "What is that?"  
  
  
  
"I think it's a ferret," Luna said matter-of-factly.  
  
  
  
"Oh," Ginny said, rubbing her temples again. "Of course."  
  
  
  
"I don't like people who attack when their opponent's back is turned," Moody snarled as the ferret bounced endlessly, squealing and kicking in a vain attempt to escape. "Stinking, cowardly, scummy thing to do."  
  
  
  
"That can't be allowed," Bion said, more reflective than worried.   
  
  
  
"Never-do-that-again--" Moody intoned, punctuating each word with an adamant bounce.   
  
  
  
"Professor Moody!" Professor McGonagall could do a fine impression of Hermione at her most prim and disapproving.   
  
  
  
"Hello, Professor McGonagall," Professor Moody said, still absorbed in the ferret Ginny couldn't quite believe to be Draco Malfoy.   
  
  
  
"What—what are you doing?" Professor McGonagall faltered, her reaction obviously akin to Ginny's.   
  
  
  
"Teaching," Moody said shortly.  
  
  
  
"Teach—Moody, is that a student?" Ginny had never heard Professor McGonagall shriek. In fact, she would have given even money on whether or not she even could. It was so unexpected, she hardly noticed the books hitting the floor. And neither did Professor McGonagall.   
  
  
  
"Yep," said Moody.  
  
  
  
"No!" protested McGonagall, rushing down stairs again as she pulled out her wand. There was a loud snapping noise, apparently restoring Malfoy to his normal disgusting form. "Moody, we never use Transfiguration as a punishment! Surely Dumbledore mentioned that?"  
  
  
  
"He might've mentioned it," Moody admitted, "but I thought--"  
  
  
  
"We give detentions, Moody! Or speak to the offender's Head of House!"  
  
  
  
The excitement more or less over, the line began to move again. Malfoy seemed to have been punished sufficiently, but Ginny was still determined to avenge the Weasley name personally. She pulled Lee and the twins aside after a somewhat unexciting beef casserole and recounted what they had missed. After that, getting them to agree to help wasn't a problem…convincing them to wait for a well-planned prank rather than taking immediate action with their fists, on the other hand…Luckily, the twins were nothing if not devious, which might just have been what she admired most about them. 


	22. Taking Care of Business

Disclaimer--If you like it, assume I don't own it. The Potterverse belongs to JKR, Steve Klowes, Scholastic and WB. Fanon belongs to the multitude...I'm simply paying homage with the sincerest form of flattery. Most of this scene is from GoF by JK Rowling. No copyright infringement is intended, and no money is being made.   
  
Author's Notes-- Progress has been a lot slower in this work. I hope you're still willing to stick with me anyway. As you all know, I may not own it, but I work hard, and I love it, so if you read it and enjoy it, please review it! Please don't print or post this elsewhere without my knowledge.  
  
Hairy_Hen--Thanks. I'm glad you like it. Ginny, like most girls, doesn't enjoy realizing how much she has in common with her mother. In her case, you do make a good point about this possibly relating to her resemblance to the twins! Speaking of which...I hope you enjoy what they did... ;-)  
  
Raiining--A bouncing ferret...truly an image to go down through the ages. *winks* My interpretation of the next works? You mean what I think might happen in upcoming JKR books? I do hope to eventually do stories for all of them, but if you're really interested in what I think now, email me at boysj@mailcity.com, and I'll give you my underwhelming theories. *grins* I've been giving what you said about the revenge aspect of the chapter needing more work a lot of thought. I think this next chapter might help develop the idea a bit more, but feel free to expand on the suggestion if it doesn't, because you make a good point. :-D  
  
JamieBell--Oddly, there a lot of things about the "bad" Mad-Eye that I find kind of likeable, for whatever motivation he may have done them. I wonder if this is just because he's doing a good job of imitating the real thing, or if there's some other more complex interpretation? I agree, I LOVE Ron's reactions. *winks*   
  
J. Rhaye--Oh, you're right! *grins* What are a few House-Elves next to a Basilisk? Ah, for the in-the-moment blindness of youth...not! *giggles* Ginny is still a bit insecure about her friendship with Hermy, but I do think Hermy already knows they're bonded--even if she doesn't realize it yet, and they are all-but-sisters, which is exactly what they both need sometimes! I really like Luna and Bion, too...in fact, the more they show up, the more I wish I could include them more often. *grins* I'm glad you're enjoying them, too! *hugs*  
  
EEDOE--Thinking of you and then some...this chapter is totally for you, girl. *winks* Hope you're okay! *BIG HUGS*  
  
Bill--That scene was SOO much fun in my head. *giggles* Kind of like the scene where Ginny trips over Hermione in the library. I couldn't stop laughing at my own clever little self...which should kind of worry me. I shouldn't gloat so much. *coughs and tries not to be so amused* I can't imagine...I would never, ever, ever model Ginny's experiences off Harry's! *blinks innocently* So swatting Rita was a slightly bad joke...I couldn't resist. *pouts* After all...cheesy word play is part of the fun of fanfiction. Seer Luna--actually, I hadn't even bothered to consider the theory one way or the other, nor did it even consciously occur to me when I wrote that line. She may be, she may not. I simply think that perceptivity (I don't know if that was a word before now, but I don't really care either *grins*) when least expected is a true Luna trademark, and I love it. And, speaking of surprising moments of perception...have you been reading my notes again? I swear I'd already decided on this when I read your review! *looks bemused and hugs Bill*  
  
*****************************************************************************************************************************  
  
Planning the prank actually required some planning of its own.   
  
  
  
"Meeting in the Tower is out," George said immediately, before he even knew Luna and Bion wanted to be involved.   
  
  
  
"You can never plan any serious in the Common Room," correlated Lee, something he'd already told Ginny so many times it qualified as an aphorism.   
  
  
  
"Too great a chance of being overhead by someone who can finger you as the culprit," concluded a serious Fred.   
  
  
  
Eventually they agreed to meet in Greenhouse One, which Lee had happened to notice empty on his way to Herbology. The twins brought a supply of candies that looked particularly toothsome so late in the day—"for inspirational purposes only" they assured Ginny innocently. And, as it turned out, they weren't entirely kidding.  
  
  
  
"That's it!" Bion shouted when Fred finally managed to get his tongue shrunk to normal size again.   
  
  
  
"What's what?" Luna asked brightly through a mouthful of Turtle Treacle.   
  
  
  
"That candy you gave me--"  
  
  
  
"Hey," said Fred warily.  
  
  
  
"Take it easy," George advised.   
  
  
  
"It was just a joke--"  
  
  
  
"No—not that…I mean, can it be modified?"  
  
  
  
"Modified…how…exactly?" Fred asked, intrigued.   
  
  
  
"So that the Engorgement Charm affects everything rather than just the tongue?" Bion said in a rush.  
  
  
  
"Isolating the effect is the tricky part," Fred informed him with an air of instruction. "It took months to perfect--"  
  
  
  
"But undoing it shouldn't take more than an hour or two," George finished as he and Fred exchanged identical grins. Evil identical grins. Ginny snickered with anticipation.   
  
  
  
"Harry Potter said Draco Malfoy smelled like dung, I heard him." Luna announced suddenly. "You should add something to the candy so that he really does. Smell bad." she added as everyone stared in confusion. "Can you do that?" she demanded, looking straight at George.  
  
  
  
"It's a great idea, Looney," George said slowly.  
  
  
  
"I've always said you were brilliant," added Fred.   
  
  
  
"But layering charms can be kind of complicated…"  
  
  
  
"And we've never really used any to make things smell…"  
  
  
  
"On purpose, that is--"  
  
  
  
"What about that charm you used on the twins' shoes?" Lee asked Ginny. "Just talking to myself?" he added hastily as Fred and George eyed him with sharp and simultaneous interest.  
  
  
  
"That charm was clever," George said thoughtfully.  
  
  
  
"Particularly for you," Fred agreed, still watching him closely.   
  
  
  
"But not overly complex…"  
  
  
  
"Which helps…but layering simple charms is still pretty delicate…"  
  
  
  
"And Charms isn't exactly our best subject--"  
  
  
  
"I'll do it," Ginny interrupted before Lee could say anything else. "Professor Flitwick says I have a knack," she explained for the twins' benefit. "Hermione showed me," she added innocently.   
  
  
  
In spite of their previous experience from the year before, Ginny was surprised by how seamlessly the twins worked together and how smoothly and efficiently her own contribution was integrated. The modified toffees were declared a success in a gratifyingly short time, and it took an equally short period to determine the twins' method of slipping the toffee to Harry's cousin was still the best approach to use. It was decided just as quickly that Malfoy would never lower himself to eating anything dropped by a Gryffindor—let alone a Weasley—no matter how tempting and delicious. Bion and Luna were ready and waiting to step into the gap and demonstrate that Ravenclaws could be as brave as Gryffindors clever.  
  
  
  
Malfoy spent most of the next day blown up like a very porky balloon—reminiscent of Harry's account of what he had accidentally done to his Aunt Marge one summer—and emitting an odor so far beyond foul Ron reported later that even Hagrid's Blast-Ended Skrewts—which were apparently quite unpleasant and off-putting in their own right—refused to go anywhere near him. Everyone pointed and whispered and asked him if he'd had an accident in Potions. Ginny was extremely satisfied, both with self and friends, but other than a quick and quiet exchange of congratulatory looks, it wouldn't do to celebrate, as they'd only give themselves away. Ginny reflected on this downside to being a mastermind in mischief with a sigh, but she couldn't feel too sorry for herself—or the group. There wasn't time.  
  
  
  
She had something else to take care of.   
  
  
  
She started with a special trip to the kitchen, where she asked the House-elves for a picnic they were only too happy to provide. Convincing them to let her pack the basket herself took a bit more work, but, mindful of Hermione's feelings on the subject—although, thankfully, they hadn't discussed them further—Ginny cajoled them into it.   
  
  
  
Ron and Harry seemed a bit confused as to why the two of them and Hermione were meeting Ginny and Neville by the lake, but soon overlooked their confusion in favor of concentrating on the food more fully. In the mellow—if somewhat cool—sunshine near the lake, they ate their way through sandwiches of half a dozen different varieties: cucumber, salmon and cream cheese, egg salad, BLT, ham, and olive, as well as fried fish and chips complete with vinegar, mixed greens and dressing, and a stunning strawberry shortcake finale.  
  
  
  
The giant squid made a melody of soft splashing while Hermione opened a stack of parchment and a lovely new quill, courtesy of Neville, a new muggle book she called a novel and a package of sugar-free treats one of the school owls delivered from her parents, the dentists, a more appetizing package of sugary treats from Ron, and—"oh, Harry! After the ominoculars and everything!"—a soft, fluffy pair of new bunny slippers. Ginny handed her the last package with a feeling of apprehension.   
  
  
  
Hermione flicked a smile in her direction as she parted the wrapping neatly. And stared at their contents like a Blast-Ended Skrewt curled up in her lap napping.   
  
  
  
"You don't like it," Ginny said miserably.   
  
  
  
Ron looked over Hermione's shoulder and scoffed. "Don't be ridiculous. 'Course she likes it—it's a book!"  
  
  
  
"I just thought…" Ginny began uncertainly. "Well…if you want to…help…House-Elves, you ought to know something about them…and that's the best authority available. Both Dad and P—it comes highly recommended. It's supposed to cover their living conditions and psychology and everything--"  
  
  
  
Ron groaned, and Harry's eyes were beginning to bulge, but Hermione glowed. "It's perfect!" She sniffed, throwing her arms around Ginny in a wild and bone-crushing hug.   
  
  
  
"Happy Birthday, Hermione" Ginny gasped unintelligibly under her arm. 


	23. An Incident Further

Disclaimer--If you like it, assume I don't own it. The Potterverse belongs to JKR, Steve Klowes, Scholastic and WB. Fanon belongs to the multitude...I'm simply paying homage with the sincerest form of flattery. Most of this scene is from GoF by JK Rowling. No copyright infringement is intended, and no money is being made.   
  
Author's Notes-- Progress has been a lot slower in this work. I hope you're still willing to stick with me anyway. As you all know, I may not own it, but I work hard, and I love it, so if you read it and enjoy it, please review it! Please don't print or post this elsewhere without my knowledge.  
  
Raiining--I'm glad you enjoyed it. :-) The Ravenclaws made sure Malfoy picked up the candy and ate it...I imagine Ginny might not have been around for all the details, as that would have made it harder to pull off. *grins and shrugs*   
  
JamieBell--I'm blushing like you wouldn't believe! Even Ginny might be impressed. Thanks...I'm flattered you think I did such a great job with the last chapter. I agree with you about Hermione, too. *winks*  
  
J.Rhaye--I love the little by-play between Lee and Ginny too. It's so cute. ;-) Absolutely. Teamwork was the key to a great prank, and the team did a great job. I really loved writing that. I think one of the hardest and best things a friend can do is understand the importance of a passion she/he doesn't share and figure out how to support the other person's interest. I'm glad to see that Ginny is up to the challenge. ;-) *hugs*  
  
EEDOE--The mental image of Bion and Luna squabbling and Ginny kind of grunting along just cracks me up. I agree...Ginny definitely deserved her chance at revenge on Malfoy. I'm glad you enjoyed the twins--I hoped you would...I tried to do them justice. *winks* Ginny DID reveal herself a bit, but the twins let it slide...*grins* *hugs*  
  
Bill--The twins are starting to catch on, but, as you say, it probably had to happen eventually. *sighs* Absolutely...and I love the mental image of Malfoy trying to do just that. *giggles* I think I missed JK's mention of Ron and Harry's gifts to Hermione, but I might have absorbed it without realizing it, since I sort of assumed they all celebrated each other's b-days and there just wasn't time, room, inclination, etc, to include them all in the books. I hope my little liberty agrees with whatever JK hinted. *looks sheepish* It did sound quite nice, didn't it? *grins* Hmmm...yes...Ron and Harry might have a bit of a point...but Ginny can't be expected to think of EVERYTHING...*coughs and looks innocent* Great minds, indeed...*grins* Read the first couple of paragraphs to this chapter! *laughs* *hugs*   
  
***************************************************************************************************************************  
  
Within a couple of days, Ginny found herself wishing Hermione had hated her gift after all.   
  
  
  
Ginny was sitting in her usual spot on the comfy couch in the smallest corner near the fire of the Tower Common Room, in her usual cross-legged position with her Potions book spread across her knees, struggling with the latest frustrating and inexplicable essay assigned by Snape when Hermione bounded up and dropped a box directly into the center with a flourish and a flat bang. Badges spilled out, rattling across the edges of Ginny's book, all of which seemed to read—"SPEW?" she asked with a frown, not really looking up.   
  
  
  
"Why does everyone keep saying that?" Hermione demanded impatiently. "It's S-P-E-W."  
  
  
  
"Oh, of course," Ginny said, gathering the badges back into the box, and trying to hand it to Hermione, who didn't seem to be paying attention. "How silly of me."  
  
  
  
"Society for the Promotion of Elvish Welfare," Hermione explained with an air of exasperation, as if this were perfectly obvious.   
  
  
  
"Um…okay…" Ginny said, trying to figure out exactly what the effects of pennyroyal in a wealth potion might be.   
  
  
  
"We're starting it," Hermione explained happily. "I'm President, Ron's Treasurer, Harry's Secretary, and—you're Vice President."  
  
  
  
"Oh," Ginny said, as something that might have been a headache sparked in her left temple. "Um."  
  
  
  
"That's all you have to say?" scolded Hermione.  
  
  
  
Ginny winced. "Um…not exactly?"  
  
  
  
She sighed and rubbed at her temple, unfortunately forgetting to set her quill aside, so that she marked little dashes along her face. "I'm thrilled—and honored—you would think of me—trust me—enough to want me to be your Vice President and all, and I do want to support Elf rights…but…I also believe the House-Elves will be unhappy if you try to force them to take time off and wages…I don't know a lot about slavery or anything, but I do know what it feels like to be forced to do something…at least what it felt like when Tom did that to me…and I can't—I won't—do that to anyone else. Not even for you, Hermione. Not even for their own good. So…I'm sorry…but I really can't join S. P. E. W. Forgive me?"  
  
  
  
"I still think the House-Elves do want wages and time off," Hermione said quietly, crossing her arms. "They just don't know it yet."  
  
  
  
"If anyone can talk them into it, you can," Ginny said, trying to smile.  
  
  
  
"I didn't think this would dredge up old memories for you," Hermione said a bit more softly. "I didn't want to do that."  
  
  
  
"I know," Ginny told her, and the smile began to feel a bit more real.   
  
  
  
"Consider the request withdrawn?"  
  
  
  
"What request?"  
  
  
  
Hermione laughed, ruffling Ginny's hair as she reached over and relieved her of the badge-box. "You're something else."  
  
  
  
"Thanks." Ginny replied with a smirk. "So are you."  
  
  
  
While Ginny was off the hook, the other Gryffindors—and even people Hermione hardly knew—weren't so lucky. Ron and Harry were so obviously uncomfortable and unhappy whenever she brought the subject up—which seemed to be constantly—it was obvious they were members to support Hermione and not from any real desire to change things, let alone belief in the cause. Fred and George, like Ginny, continued to insist that if Hermione really wanted to help the House-Elves, she wouldn't force them to accept a bunch of things they didn't want, and for some reason Ginny didn't entirely understand, Hermione didn't press the point. But most of the students didn't have the foggiest idea what Hermione was talking about, let alone how they felt, and they weren't given a chance to find out. People scattered whenever they saw her coming, and those few unfortunates who weren't quite quick enough to get out of her way usually ended up agreeing to join and paying the entry dues just to make her go away so they could actually concentrate on homework, which usually seemed a lot less depressing after listening to her.   
  
  
  
These incidents were so common, they soon started to feel like part of the everyday Hogwarts routine. Life had begun to settle into a quieter, if demanding, pattern, when Ginny and Colin came in after Care of Magical Creatures to find the Entrance Hall crowded. Again. Draco Malfoy came instantly to mind, and Ginny was already trying to devise a fitting response to whatever he'd done this time as she and Colin wove through every small gap and miniscule opening in the crowd to the source of the congestion and it turned out to be nothing more exciting than a very large sign hung on the marble staircase.   
  
  
  
TRIWIZARD TOURNAMENT  
  
THE DELEGATIONS FROM BEAUXBATONS AND DURMSTRANG WILL BE ARRIVING AT 6'OCLOCK ON FRIDAY, THE 30TH of OCT. LESSONS WILL END HALF AN HOUR EARLY—  
  
  
  
"Not Astronomy," Ginny sighed. "I bet it's cancelled entirely." Colin looked at her as if wondering what exactly her point might be, but Ginny would have far preferred charting down stars to chatting up strangers.  
  
  
  
STUDENTS WILL RETURN THEIR BAGS AND BOOKS TO THEIR DORMITORIES AND ASSEMBLE IN FRONT OF THE CASTLE TO GREET OUR GUESTS BEFORE THE WELCOMING FEAST. 


	24. Beauxbatons

Disclaimer--If you like it, assume I don't own it. The Potterverse belongs to JKR, Steve Klowes, Scholastic and WB. Fanon belongs to the multitude...I'm simply paying homage with the sincerest form of flattery. Most of this scene is from GoF by JK Rowling. No copyright infringement is intended, and no money is being made.   
  
Author's Notes-- Progress has been a lot slower in this work, but since this chapter is a lot shorter than I realized, I've decided to go ahead and treat my readers to one of my occasional two-for-one specials! Just be sure you appreciate it! *laughs* As you all know, I may not own it, but I work hard, and I love it, so if you read it and enjoy it, please review it! Please don't print or post this elsewhere without my knowledge.  
  
Raiining--I think you might have a point about Hermione's obsession with Elf rights playing a large purpose we have yet to discover. Unfortunately, I really don't know what that might be. I don't think I've heard an actual ETA on Book 6, though (perhaps due to hopeful delusion) I have a nagging feeling I've heard it should be released in a year or two. Information about book six is surprisingly thin, but The Leaky Cauldron does have the transcript of an excellent QA session with JKR. I found it very thought-provoking. Anyway...if anyone does here when book six is coming, I'd love to know!  
  
JamieBell--I'm glad to know you think I've done a good job of allowing Hermione room to grow and develop. :-) It's kind of fun to see the similarities and differences between Ginny and her siblings, isn't it? *grins* I love your reviews, too! *hugs*  
  
J. Rhaye-- Ex-ACTLY. *grins* And Harry and Ron never even IMAGINED. I mean, HONESTLY! *snickers* "She's a good enough friend to stand up to Hermione when necessary, but also stand BY if needed." That's a great way to put it! I definitely think it's one of the hardest and most rewarding parts of a really good (and long-standing) friendship that people don't appreciate as much as they should, SO I'm really glad you noticed it! *beams* Ah...I liked that little description, too...thanks so much for your praise! *blushes* Thanks for another perceptive and supportive review; that sort of thing contributes more than you can imagine! *hugs*  
  
EEDOE--Thinking of you. Looking forward to your return--and your stories! :-) *hugs*   
  
Bill--Umm...yeah...*grins* Although I think Ginny did mean what she said and wasn't ONLY using it as an excuse, I have to admit I don't put it past her to know it was the easiest and least painful route to her ultimate goal and use it without much remorse. You make a good point about Ron having similar leverage with the slugs, but while I don't deny he is a bit thick, I think the major reason it didn't occurr to him was simply because he's too open and straightforward to intentionally manipulate people with things he did with no expectation of return, if you know what I mean. *shrugs sheepishly* A wealth potion would be nice, but you do make an excellent point about its position (or the position of wealth in general) in the HP universe. I personally would think that the potion is both a bit tricky to make (since Snape loves to try to make his students look less capable than they potentially are) and prone to nasty side-effects...or at least rather detrimental ones...I personally picture something like the "wealth stone" in "On a Pale Horse" where the Potion could potentially draw great wealth, but only if it happened to be closer than whatever gummy penny might be lying about. *smirks* You pegged the point of Ginny's reaction...of this story...and of the whole arc...beautifully. *grins* That is indeed exactly what I think Ginny's story is all about...the human journey. Which is why all of the titles in her little collection deal with feelings, ideas, etc, as opposed to physical objects. *blushes* Um...anyway...I totally agree with you about the upcoming setback being only a setback in the short-term, because it is needed as a step forward. Unfortunately, I remember what the death of that long term crush feels like. *winces* Ouch. *sighs* Still...it's exactly like the tempering of a fine steel blade...necessary to make the strong and flexible woman Ginny (or any girl) ultimately owes it to herself to become. I like that bit from OotP...I hadn't realized how strongly it applied to the entire events of that book! *grins* I'm going to mull that one over at length--thanks for pointing it out! *hugs*   
  
*****************************************************************************************************************************  
  
Ginny wasn't any more thrilled about missing Astronomy on the 30th than she had been before, but as she made her way outside to join her classmates, she had to admit to some interest in strangers. Except for the street urchins in Egypt, she'd never really met anyone her own age from another country—Scotland and Ireland didn't count, and neither did India, as it had been part of Britain once—though she had vague memories of Bill receiving a hat from a pen friend once…she thought it might have done something to his ears…She managed to keep herself occupied in half-hearted attempt to recall the details for longer than she would have thought possible, but as long as it seemed to be taking the other schools to arrive.   
  
  
  
Standing in the third row from the front, Ginny had a hard time seeing over the younger students in front of her, and in spite of the distinct impression she was getting that their view of the empty grounds didn't wasn't much more interesting than her lack of it, it was almost enough to make her wish she were younger. Or would have been, if she didn't remember being younger. She sighed, wishing she could get up the nerve—or inspiration—to do something to make the head in front of her more exciting. She had fallen into some sort of trance bordering on a bored coma, so that Dumbledore's voice seemed to filter through from another life as he finally observed, "Aha! Unless I am very much mistaken, the delegation from Beauxbatons approaches."  
  
  
  
"Where?" everyone in the crowd asked at once, all except Ginny, who was still trying to regain her mental balance.   
  
  
  
"There!" yelled a sixth year, pointing at a spot over the depths of the Forbidden Forest. The second year in front of Ginny nearly gave her a nosebleed by jerking her head back to look up, but Ginny hardly noticed. Something large and blue was galloping toward them. "It's a dragon!" shrieked a nearby first year.  
  
  
  
"Don't be stupid," scoffed Colin's surprisingly astute little brother. "It's a flying house!"  
  
  
  
They were both right—after a fashion.  
  
  
  
The giant carriage was nearly the size of a house, and pulled by several horses that each seemed nearly the size of a small dragon. They ensemble landed with such a crash Ginny rather expected it to leave a crater. The door—bearing a coat of arms Ginny really didn't get a good look at, but that seemed somewhat ridiculously delicate and elegant—opened and a boy in equally delicate blue robes—to match the carriage, Ginny could only suppose—jump out to release a set of golden steps. Ginny snorted, a sound cut off somewhat short by the appearance on those steps of what was quite possibly the largest shoe she had ever seen. The shoe seemed to be connected to a leg, and following the leg, it seemed to lead up…and up…and up…to a woman tall enough to look Hagrid in the eye without the slightest trouble. Somehow their similar size was even more intimidating on her—in spite of the fact she was actually quite beautiful. Or perhaps because of it? Ginny couldn't be sure… Perhaps it didn't have anything to do with the woman's beauty at all, and was only because Hagrid was so kind and gentle…  
  
  
  
Dumbledore clapped, so the students—Ginny included this time—did too. The tall woman stepped forward and extended her hand. Dumbledore barely had to lean forward at all to kiss it, a circumstance that somewhat limited the chivalry of the gesture, to Ginny's disappointment. The tall woman politely didn't notice. "My dear Madam Maxim, welcome to Hogwarts."  
  
  
  
"Dumbly-dorr," the woman purred. She had a voice like a bass cello, an instrument Ginny had always rather enjoyed, if not thought of as feminine. "I hope I find you well?"  
  
  
  
"In excellent form, I thank you," Dumbledore assured her, sounding quite amused.   
  
  
  
"My pupils," Madam Maxim said, gesturing dismissively toward a rather lackluster dozen boys and girls. Apparently none of them had bothered looking into the climate near Hogwarts, as every single one of them was shivering noticeably in their matching thin blue robes. Ginny rolled her eyes. Still, she couldn't help feeling a bit sympathetic as the wind was quite sharp. Dumbledore must have been thinking something similar, for he was responding to Madam Maxim's inquiries as to the other school's arrival with an offer to step inside and warm up.   
  
  
  
Once he'd finally managed to convince her that Hagrid was, indeed, more than capable of handling her bizarre—but beautiful—horses, Madam Maxim was more than willing to accept. 


	25. Durmstrang

Disclaimer--If you like it, assume I don't own it. The Potterverse belongs to JKR, Steve Klowes, Scholastic and WB. Fanon belongs to the multitude...I'm simply paying homage with the sincerest form of flattery. Most of this scene is from GoF by JK Rowling. No copyright infringement is intended, and no money is being made.   
  
Author's Notes-- Progress has been a lot slower in this work, but since the previous chapter is a lot shorter than I realized, I've decided to go ahead and treat my readers to one of my occasional two-for-one specials! Just be sure you appreciate it! *laughs* As you all know, I may not own it, but I work hard, and I love it, so if you read it and enjoy it, please review it! Please don't print or post this elsewhere without my knowledge.  
  
*****************************************************************************************************************************  
  
Ginny was falling back into her trance again…in between occasional bursts of mourning for her lost lesson in Astronomy when a strange gurgling noise slowly slipped into her thoughts. She paused, raising her head and looking around rather like Fang on the scent of a particularly plump tea cake. "It sounds like Percy gargling," she thought she heard one of the twins say faintly, but perhaps she just expected it.   
  
  
  
"The lake!" Lee yelled, and this time she was sure it really was him. "Look at the lake!"   
  
  
  
Ginny hoped they hadn't done anything irreversible to it. She'd always really rather liked the lake. She sighed and stood on tip-toe, trying to crane her neck enough to see water over the nondescript head of the second year. She could hear a rushing of waves reminiscent of their infrequent family trips to the beach. Trips she'd always enjoyed…Bill had shown her how to forage for sea glass…Charlie had taught her to dig clams...Ron had helped her build sandcastles…Ginny reluctantly shook off the reverie and lunged upward again, trying to see. Eventually, she caught sight of something dark, straight, and narrow rising toward them. "It's a mast," Harry said behind her.   
  
  
  
Slowly, the ship followed. It was black and dense as solid shadow, but something about it seemed almost fragile. It gleamed with a sickly pale glow, which was probably an unfortunate reflection of the moon. It floated across the water, eventually stopping with a groan and an anchoring splash. There was a sharp thud and footsteps as the passengers lowered a plank and began to walk ashore.   
  
  
  
As they came into view, Ginny saw they were wearing fur cloaks that looked as dark and dense as their ship. All except the man leading them, who was wearing a gorgeous silver fur that seemed to match his hair. He was dazzling in the dark. "Dumbledore!" he called heartily. "How are you, my dear fellow?"  
  
  
  
Something about his tone didn't match his words. Ginny would have bet his silver fur cloak he didn't hold Dumbledore dear at all, and felt a bit annoyed at his claims to the contrary.   
  
  
  
"Blooming, thank you, Professor Karkaroff," Dumbledore returned, not bothering to return the attempt at affection, which Ginny appreciated.   
  
  
  
"Dear old Hogwarts," Karkaroff observed, drawing closer. Ginny realized she was gritting her teeth. The hair on the back of her neck seemed to be standing on end. "How good it is to be here, how good…Viktor, come along, into the warmth…you don't mind, Dumbledore?" Ginny wrenched her jaw apart to stop grinding her teeth. How nice of you to ask. Git. "Viktor has a slight head cold."  
  
  
  
The student in question seemed oddly familiar. Ginny stared at him, feeling slightly nuts, and realized, with a feeling of surreality, just where she had seen him before. "The Quidditch World Cup." It was Viktor Karkaroff, the Bulgarian Seeker who'd played such an audacious and slightly nasty trick. And Ginny wasn't the only one who'd recognized him. In fact, the entire school seemed to have gone nuts.   
  
  
  
Lee was bounding about like an overexcited gnome, several sixth-year girls were digging through their pockets for anything that remotely resembled a writing instrument, Colin and Denis were conferring in high-pitched tones about what their dad would think, and Ron was shouting at him as he passed the Gryffindor table. Ginny's eyelids twitched with another developing headache.   
  
  
  
"They look a lot happier than the Beauxbatons lot," Harry observed off-handedly.   
  
  
  
Ginny was a bit startled to notice he was right. The Durmstrang lot were pulling off their heavy furs—the deep red robes underneath still didn't seem overly practical, but were attractive—with looks of wonder as they glanced upward at the stunning stars of the ceiling and down at the shimmering golden place settings, while the Beauxbatons students were huddled at the end of the Ravenclaw table as if they had been left out in the middle of a snowstorm on the moor. On the other hand, they were sitting with Ravenclaw, a group Ginny herself had always found particularly likeable, while Durmstrang had gravitated toward Slytherin. "Interesting…." She muttered under her breath as the group from Beauxbatons leapt to their feet at Madam Maxim's entrance.   
  
  
  
The rest of the Great Hall laughed, but they remained at unselfconscious attention until she had been seated, another little detail Ginny found of interest.   
  
  
  
"Good evening, ladies and gentlemen, ghosts, and guests—most particularly guests," Dumbledore said in his lovely, soothing tenor. He was beaming with warmth and pleasure. "I have great pleasure in welcoming you all to Hogwarts. I hope and trust that your stay here will be both comfortable and enjoyable."  
  
  
  
One of the Beauxbatons girls, still clutching a muffler around her head, gave what was unmistakably a derisive laugh.  
  
  
  
"No one's making you stay!" Hermione bristled several seats away. Ginny nearly cheered her on.   
  
  
  
"The tournament," Dumbledore continued, taking no notice of his rude guests or less-than-welcoming students, "will be officially opened at the end of the feast. I now invite you all to eat, drink, and make yourselves at home!" 


	26. Interesting Company

Disclaimer--If you like it, assume I don't own it. The Potterverse belongs to JKR, Steve Klowes, Scholastic and WB. Fanon belongs to the multitude...I'm simply paying homage. Most of this scene is from GoF by JK Rowling. No copyright infringement is intended, and no money is being made.   
  
Author's Notes-- Progress has been a lot slower in this work, but I hope you'll all stick with me anyway. As you all know, I may not own it, but I work hard, and I love it, so if you read it and enjoy it, please review it! Please don't print or post this elsewhere without my knowledge.  
  
Saint Paul--Thanks so much! Ginny is--obviously--my favorite character as well, so I'm always pleased to meet fellow Ginny-lovers. *winks* I'm glad you've enjoyed my stories so far, and I hope you continue to review. :-)  
  
I'm-not-the-Weakest-Link--Wow!! Thanks! I'm blushing and beaming ear-to-ear; I'm thrilled you've read my stories and enjoyed them so much. I hope you keep reading and reviewing in the future. I do intend to write Ginny's story at least through HP Book 7 (though that does to some extent depend on time and inspiration as well). Whether or not I write Ginny's 7th year will depend on how the series ends and whether or not I think I have a good idea... ;-)  
  
JamieBell--I wasn't really thinking about it consciously, but I guess I was re-living how I used to feel at Pep Rallys and other school-related events when I wrote that scene. It sounds like your experience is pretty similar--I can almost picture you sitting next to me. *grins wryly* I think you're right...this section of the book does seem to last a long time...and I'm really looking forward to more exciting things coming up, too. *winks*  
  
Raiining--Hope to see more reviews from you soon.   
  
J.Rhaye--Awww...I love that you leave reviews for both chapters! *hugs* I'm glad you think I do a good job of keeping Ginny real and well-rounded. I try, but I'm not always sure how well I succeed. *grins wryly* I liked the mental image of Ginny playing tricks with the head in front of her too. *winks* Yay...you liked my descriptions! *does little dance in chair and beams* It's great you noticed that Ginny was trying to recover some of the FUN of being a kid...I think that was a small but important little point. Ginny is a pretty good judge of character...I think it has to do with the fact that she hasn't lost the somewhat underrated ability to pay attention to her own feelings. Unfortunately, being that sensitive does seem to be giving her a lot of headaches recently. Hopefully that will ease up a bit soon...and then we can get to the really interesting stuff. *winks* *hugs*   
  
EEDOE--Looking forward to your input and enthusiasm whenever you catch up with your reading list! *winks* Enjoy now and later!! *hugs*   
  
Bill-- It's been too long since we've had a two-fer hasn't it? *grins* I did consider British Colonial attitudes when I wrote that, for much the reason you give;Hogwarts still seems to be the major school of magic for most former British Colonies, including India, Scotland, Ireland, and possibly Hong Kong. So it seemed reasonable Ginny wouldn't find those cultures too out of the ordinary. *grins and shrugs* Anyway, no one is ENTIRELY without prejudice or patriotism. That is indeed what it is like being short. Of course, in many crowds they can't see over, many small people are quite adept at finding very small gaps and weaving through them to the front where they can catch at least a partial view...in this instance, Ginny didn't have that option. Interesting (I think I like that word...*rolls eyes affectionately*) point about flying animals. Perhaps they often show up because they represent a certain freedom of thought, feeling, or behavior from certain traditional conventions? That might actually be the good thesis for a literary paper...*grins* Whoops. Poor Harry. I didn't mean to make him come off like an insensitive brute...although now that you point it out, he is...a bit...*grins* But...in his defense, I should say I don't think he even realized Ginny was standing in front of him craning about...he was looking completely at the ship, and his statement about the mast was actually in response to several things that people around him had been saying, and not specifically becuase he realized Ginny couldn't see it. A very excellent point about Ginny. I rather like that theory. *grins* I also like the reverse...that Ginny turned out to be a good canidate for the diary because she is so highly sensitive to the people around her. *grins* Ah...ambigious meanings...a writer's delight. *sighs happily* Anyway...I'm looking forward to what you think of this. *hugs*  
  
*****************************************************************************************************************************  
  
The dishes filled as they always did, but the House-Elves had taken their duties as seriously as Ginny knew they always had and always would. There was an even greater variety of mouth-watering dishes than usual, including some Ginny didn't recognize.   
  
  
  
"What's that?" Ron asked, pointing at one.   
  
  
  
"Bouillabaisse," said Hermione.   
  
  
  
"Bless you," said Ron, who was always rather thick when eating.  
  
  
  
"It's French," Hermione said. "I had it on holiday summer before last. It's very nice."  
  
  
  
That recommendation seemed sufficient to Ginny, who thought she might as well make use of the opportunity to expand her horizons. She ladled some of the thick shellfish stew onto her plate, along with a nice helping of some sort of tomato-drenched cabbage, some odd but delicious potato dumplings, and quite a lot of beautiful—and completely unseasonal—asparagus in lovely yellow sauce.   
  
  
  
"I'll take your word for it," said Ron.   
  
  
  
Hermione looked at Ginny. Ginny shrugged slightly and turned her attention back to the food, which was quite good.  
  
  
  
Hagrid sidled into the feast a bit late, hands bandaged rather thickly. Ginny found herself rather grateful the skrewts were the fourth years' problem and not hers. Hagrid, however, appeared far more interested in contemplating Madam Maxim than whatever had occurred to his fingers. Ginny was trying to decide whether or not she thought that was an encouraging development when she was distracted by an unexpected burst of laughter from Harry.   
  
  
  
Startled, she turned to see Ron goggling as if he'd forgotten how to breathe, practically tumbling out of his chair in pursuit of slender, blue-robed girl with a shaft of hair like white moonlight. His face was closer to hot pink than Weasley red, but the knuckles of his fingers as they dug into the table were white. "She's a veela," he rasped, and in spite of his lack of breath, there was a note in his voice Ginny had never heard before, though the appearance of Krum might have come close.   
  
  
  
"Of course she isn't," Hermione said with a note in her voice Ginny hadn't heard before either. "I don't see anyone else gaping at her like an idiot."  
  
  
  
But, as much as she hated to disappoint Hermione, Ginny could. As the girl crossed the Hall, heads turned like sunflowers tracing the path of the sun. And the looks on a lot of those faces….as her eyes met Harry's, Ginny could see he saw the same thing. To her consternation, her sorrow for Hermione was overshadowed by her rush of relief that Harry was in fact, looking at her, and not the girl-who-might-be-veela. Ginny could feel herself deflate as the breath escaped her in a low, weak hiss.   
  
  
  
"I'm telling you, that's not a normal girl," Ron insisted, still leaning after the blonde. "They don't make them like that at Hogwarts!"  
  
  
  
Ginny's pang of embarrassed vanity and mingled pity for Hermione sputtered out quickly as Harry almost immediately responded, "They make them okay at Hogwarts."   
  
  
  
And then she realized he wasn't looking at her.  
  
  
  
Not anymore.   
  
  
  
He was looking at the Ravenclaw table. And…a group of giggling, gorgeous, and completely un-Weasley-like girls. She had a feeling she knew exactly which one of them had attracted his attention. Forgetting herself, let alone her surroundings, Ginny swore.   
  
  
  
No one seemed to notice.   
  
  
  
"When you've both put your eyes back in," Hermione snorted, sounding like Professor McGonagall, "you'll be able to see who's just arrived." Ginny looked to where she was pointing at the staff table. Ludo Bagman and Percy's boss, Mr. Crouch—how she wished she could forget that name—had taken the two empty seats. "Now...that's interesting…"   
  
Two people who just might have been involved in Quidditch World Cup…at Hogwarts…just in time for the start of the Tri-Wizard Tournament. It was very interesting indeed. Pushing bitter shock aside, Ginny looked at Hermione, who nodded slightly.   
  
  
  
"What are they doing here?" Harry demanded. For a moment, Ginny thought he, too, was thinking the same thing.   
  
  
  
"They organized the Tournament, didn't they?" Hermione reminded him impatiently. Maybe not. Hermione obviously didn't think he had. "I suppose they wanted to see it start."  
  
  
  
Dessert seemed oddly unappetizing with so much on her mind. Ginny was just as glad to push her half-eaten sweets aside when Dumbledore stood up again. Even Fred and George had given up on eating. For once. They were staring at Dumbledore as if he were about to tell them some great secret.   
  
  
  
"The moment has come," Dumbledore smiled at them. "The Tri-Wizard Tournament is about to start. I would like to say a few words before we bring in the casket—just to clarify the procedure that we will be following this year. But first, let me introduce, for those who do not know them, Mr. Bartemius Crouch, Head of the Department of International Magical Cooperation, and Mr. Ludo Bagman, Head of the Department of Sports and Magical Games."  
  
  
  
"Mr. Bagman and Mr. Crouch," Dumbledore continued as the applause eventually died away. "have worked tirelessly over the last few months on the arrangements for the Tri-Wizard Tournament, and they will be joining myself, Professor Karkaroff, and Madam Maxim on the panel that will judge the champions' efforts."  
  
  
  
Ginny had to hand it to him…Professor Dumbledore always knew just what to say to get someone's attention. Or an entire school full of someones. And he knew it. "The casket, if you please, Mr. Filch," he smiled.  
  
  
  
Filch crept forward, even more slowly than usual, due to the weight of the heavy jewel-encrusted wooden chest cradled in his arms. Dennis Creevy actually stood on the bench to watch their progress. Ginny was impressed with his foresight. Even though she was taller—if not by much—she rather wished she had thought of it. 


	27. Goblet of Fire

Disclaimer--If you like it, assume I don't own it. The Potterverse belongs to JKR, Steve Klowes, Scholastic and WB. Fanon belongs to the multitude...I'm simply paying homage. Most of this scene is from GoF by JK Rowling. No copyright infringement is intended, and no money is being made.   
  
Author's Notes-- Progress has been a lot slower in this work, but I hope you'll all stick with me anyway. As you all know, I may not own it, but I work hard, and I love it, so if you read it and enjoy it, please review it! Please don't print or post this elsewhere without my knowledge.  
  
Raiining--I understand...(especially that bit about the boyfriend who doesn't really get fanfiction), but of course I noticed you hadn't reviewed! ;-) I'm glad you enjoyed the transcript...I did too (Thanks to EEDOE and Bill for pointing me to it). Mugglenet.com is another great place to get all the latest gossip. Being able to apply Ginny's experience to the HP universe is a great compliment! Thanks! *hugs*  
  
JamieBell--Being friends with a guy...often the fastest route to getting your heart broken...and with them never the wiser. *sighs* Still...I can offer you and Ginny both this comfort...as painful and difficult as those feelings are, they're a wealth of experience that's usually worth it in the end. (Don't hit me! *giggles and ducks*) I'm really thrilled and flattered you think I capture those feelings so well...thanks so much! *hugs*  
  
Kattcha91--Hi! I'm always happy to meet a new reader. :-) I'm glad you've enjoyed my stories...I really love Ginny's heart, too. I do think Ginny and Hermione are developing a relationship similar to that of sisters, and it's kind of fun to watch. Hope to hear from you again.   
  
I'm-Not-the-Weakest-Link--Wow...I'm really impressed at how fast you got caught up! It means a lot you think I capture Ginny's personality so well. :-) I was wondering about those headaches myself...but I'm not sure if they mean anything or not. I guess we'll just have to see how the story develops. I'm looking forward to your next review. :-)  
  
J. Rhaye--I've been enjoying the comraderie between Hermione and Ginny, too; they have a great relationship. Poor Ginny really DID get a bit of a double punch there...*sighs* I agree...I think the swearing was totally justified under the circs. A talk between Hermione and Ginny would be enlightening...but I'm not sure when that will show up...*muses* That's a great way to describe what Ginny does--"plucking little threads of the bigger picture". I think Ginny is starting to suspect something between Ron and Hermione...a girl's close friends often know she has romantic feelings before she does...*smirks* *hugs*  
  
EEDOE--Keeping your spot warm, girl. *winks*   
  
Bill--I'm big on the non-verbal communication. *grins* It had to be pretty painful for people to still be oblivious, but, on the other hand, I think it's a pain alloyed with resignation...and, in this case, relief. No girl wants people to notice her hopeless crush...especially when she's trying to deal with just how hopeless it actually is. *sighs* Definitely a very key transitional chapter. *grins* I'm happy for the new reviewers...deserve them or not--but I love the old ones, too! *hugs*  
  
*****************************************************************************************************************************  
  
"The instructions for the tasks the champions will face this year have already been examined by Mr. Crouch and Mr. Bagman," Dumbledore explained as Filch set his burden upon the Head Table. "And they have made the necessary arrangements for each challenge. There will be three tasks, spaced throughout the school year, and they will test the champions in many different ways…their magical prowess—their daring—their powers of deduction—and, of course, their ability to cope with danger.   
  
  
  
"Sounds like a normal school year," Ginny said sourly, but no one seemed to hear her. It was nice to know some things never changed. She sighed gustily, and turned her attention back to Dumbledore.   
  
  
  
"The champion with the highest total after task three will win the Triwizard Cup. The champions will be chosen by an impartial selector: the Goblet of Fire." As he spoke, Dumbledore produced his wand from somewhere amidst beard and robes and used it to tap the wooden chest three times. The lid creaked open in response, sounding almost as thrilled as Ginny felt. Dumbledore reached inside and produced a large goblet that looked as if it were a few minor strokes of the carving knife removed from a block of old wood.   
  
  
  
"That thing is going to choose the champions?" Patricia Hart asked disbelievingly. "How? Whoever gets the most splinters?"  
  
  
  
"Looks can be deceiving," remonstrated Colin. "The Sorting Hat doesn't look very impressive either, but it works, doesn't it?"  
  
  
  
"I suppose," Patricia said, looking entirely unconvinced.   
  
  
  
"It has to be a little impressive," murmured Ginny. "After all, it is full of blue flames."  
  
  
  
"Anybody wishing to submit themselves as champion must write their name and school clearly upon a slip of parchment and drop it into the goblet," Dumbledore explained. "Aspiring champions have twenty-four hours in which to put their names forward. Tomorrow night, Halloween, the goblet will return the names of the three it has judged most worthy to represent their schools. The goblet will be placed in the Entrance Hall tonight, where it will be freely accessible to all those wishing to compete."  
  
  
  
Fred, George, and Lee were exchanging gleeful looks and at but cackling in glee. Ginny saw Dumbledore look at them directly as he continued, "To unsure no underage student yields to temptation, I will be drawing an Age Line around the Goblet of Fire once it has been placed in the Entrance Hall. Nobody under the age of seventeen will be able to cross this line." Given the gleam in the twins' eyes, and the slight rougish smile that tweaked one side of Lee's mouth, Ginny wondered if Dumbledore were entirely sure about that, but it wasn't really her problem. If they could get around the rules to enter, they would probably survive the competition as well.   
  
  
  
"Finally," Dumbledore said, as if picking up on her thoughts. "I wish to impress upon any of you wishing to compete that this tournament is not to be entered into lightly. Once a champion has been selected by the Goblet of Fire, he or she is obliged to see the tournament through to the end. The placing of your name in the Goblet constitutes a binding magical contract--" Ginny knew it was perfectly straightforward and unthreatening…the sort of thing the Ministry used all the time, and had for years, but there was something about the phrase that still reminded her of all the trouble Professor Bimms was forever telling them witches and wizards had gotten into with contracts before they'd been regulated a bit. She frowned at her own inability to experience something without trying to analyze every little nuance of it. Next thing she knew, she'd be talking like Percy, fates forbid.   
  
  
  
"An Age Line!" Fred was all but gushing as Dumbledore dismissed them. "Well, that should be fooled by an Aging Potion, shouldn't it? And once your name's in that Goblet, you're laughing—it can't tell whether you're seventeen or not!"  
  
  
  
"But I don't think anyone under seventeen will stand a chance," protested Hermione. An interesting stance, thought Ginny, from someone who'd managed to defeat a Troll and navigate a maze meant to stop Tom at age eleven. Not to mention surviving a basilisk or somehow managing to clear Sirius Black… "We just haven't learned enough."   
  
"Speak for yourself," George said shortly, an equally amusing stance from someone who had barely survived Mum's reaction to his O.W. L.s. "You'll try and get in, won't you, Harry?"  
  
  
  
Harry seemed to consider this for a moment. Ginny stared at him in disbelief. Wasn't it about time he actually had an uneventful year? She'd thought he'd be looking forward to the vacation. "Boys."  
  
  
  
Hermione looked as if she agreed…especially as Ron picked that particular moment to break away from the group, demanding, "Where is he?" At least it was Krum who had his attention and not the blonde girl. "Dumbledore didn't say where the Durmstrang students are sleeping, did he?"  
  
  
  
With timing that bordered on the magical, Karkaroff bustled past at just that moment, "Back to the ship, then. Viktor, how are you feeling? Did you eat enough? Should I send for some mulled wine from the kitchens?"  
  
  
  
"Do you think Karkaroff might be related to Mum?" George whispered to Fred.   
  
  
  
"Honestly," Hermione sniffed, "he plays Quidditch, he's not helpless."  
  
  
  
Krum shot a look in their direction that left Ginny feeling uncomfortably as though he might have overheard, but, then she supposed it didn't really matter if he had.   
  
  
  
"Professor, I vould like some wine," another student with a shockingly red nose said.   
  
  
  
"I wasn't offering it to you, Poliokoff," snapped Karkaroff. Ginny suppressed a sudden urge to kick him in the shins. Hermione wasn't quite so restrained, though she did confine herself to a loud humpphing breath of disapproval. Ron shot her a look somewhere between scandal and murder. Hermione ignored it.  
  
  
  
Harry, ever the gentleman, stopped to let Karkaroff and company exit through the doors first. "Thank you," Karkaroff said, calmly accepting his due. He started to go through the doors, stopped, stood still in place for a moment, and turned back to stare at Harry as if he'd never seen anything quite like him before. Accordingly, all the students behind him stared as well. The only mental comfort Ginny could offer was that at least Harry didn't seem prone to blush like she did.   
  
  
  
"Yeah, that's Harry Potter," a vaguely familiar voice growled behind them in "yeah-so?" tones.  
  
  
  
Professor Karkaroff spun around. Moody leaned heavily on his staff, and looked back unblinking. Karkaroff's face now matched his cloak. And hair. "You," he said, as if Moody were as threatening and unlikeable as, oh, say…Tom Riddle. But…Dad would never be friends with him if that were the case. "You!"  
  
  
  
"Me," Moody said, and Ginny could tell he liked Karkaroff even less than Karkaroff liked him. Which made her wonder about Karkaroff… "And unless you have anything to say to Potter, Karkaroff--" his tone made it quite clear that any such statements ought to be carefully supervised if that were the case—"you might want to move. You're blocking the doorway."  
  
  
  
Somehow Karkaroff managed to sweep away without ever taking his eyes off Moody's face. Ginny felt a new respect for the skills of any Professor who could produce a reaction like that, though she wasn't entirely sure she should. Moody took little notice of her reaction, or even of Harry, as he was watching Karkaroff nearly as closely as Karkaroff watched him. 


	28. Before the Feast

Disclaimer--If you like it, assume I don't own it. The Potterverse belongs to JKR, Steve Klowes, Scholastic and WB. Fanon belongs to the multitude...I'm simply paying homage. Most of this scene is from GoF by JK Rowling. No copyright infringement is intended, and no money is being made.   
  
Author's Notes-- Progress has been a lot slower in this work, but I hope you'll all stick with me anyway. As you all know, I may not own it, but I work hard, and I love it, so if you read it and enjoy it, please review it! Please don't print or post this elsewhere without my knowledge.  
  
I'm-Not-the-Weakest-Link--Thanks. :-)  
  
JamieBell--Me too! The pranks in the Captain's Quarters would be good, but I suspect the ship is probably spelled not to let strangers aboard or at least to set off an alarm, so pranks there are probably out. :-( It's a great thought, though! ;-)  
  
Raiining--Yeah...it's strange how likeable such a trecherous character can be. You got it...Lee's helped Ginny pull a few tricks on the twins over the years...and the twins have an inkling of that now, but no proof. Good memory. :-)  
  
J.Rhaye--Awww...my sympathies! *hugs* I like Ginny's little commentary on herself, too. *snickers* Thanks...I thought the bit about the contract was pretty valid, so it's nice to know you agree. :-) Great observations, even if you did feel like you weren't doing them justice! *big hugs*   
  
EEDOE--Thanks for leaving reviews for all three chapters, and for all your great input! *hugs* You noticed that Ginny DIDN'T see the coat of arms! *happy dance* I thought that was a clever touch. *smirks* I loved Hermione's comment, too. *winks* I just love the phrase "over-excited gnome" *giggles* And the bit about the Boullabaisse! *grins* JKR will always do it best. ;-) I totally agree about silent communication. Yeah...boys! *snorts* I liked Patricia's little comment on the cup, too. *grins* *hugs* It's great to have you back! *hugs*   
  
Bill--I've had similar thoughts about Hogwarts as a socially accepted form of population control...I mean, honestly! *grins* I think JKR is good at that...pointing out the incongruities of behavior and attitude...but maybe I'm just projecting Austen onto her. *grins and shrugs* Yeah, imagine that. *blinks innocently* No...I've always thought the age difference was a little uncomfortable myself...although seniors have dated freshman before. Bleh!! *shudders* More of Patricia? I'm not sure...but as far as I know, she and Ginny aren't particularly close...*muses* It's so funny that you mention the length of the story so far...I was just observing that when I posted the last chapter! This story certainly seems to be shaping up to be much longer than the first two, but I can't say exactly how long I expect it to be, as I never expected it to take more than 25 chapters to get to Halloween! On the other hand, the pace should pick up a bit after Ginny's birthday, so it may even out some...we'll just have to wait and see. *grins sheepishly* *hugs*   
  
*****************************************************************************************************************************  
  
Sleeping in the next day was a bit of a challenge, but Ginny was absolutely determined to prove up to the task. So…while everyone else was racing madly in and out and making as much noise as they possibly could, Ginny slept. She eventually pulled herself out of bed and down to the kitchen—as she wasn't really in the mood to talk about all the new visitors, let alone to them—for a late lunch and early tea with the House-Elves, whom she actually rather liked. One of them seemed to be eyeing her with something akin to disconcerting interest, but Ginny decided she must be nuts, as there wasn't anything about her of any interest at all. After several extra cups of fortifying tea, she wandered away to decide what to do with the rest of her day, thinking vague thoughts about activities in which her various friends might be involved.   
  
  
  
Fred, George, and Lee were probably trying to enter their names in the Goblet, a project she'd just as soon not be identified with when they got caught—if they got caught, at any rate. Colin and Tempest were probably milling around the Entrance Hall, trying to take in as much as they could, which held even less appeal…She thought she had a misty recollection of Hermione popping her head through her bedroom door to tell her she was going to visit Hagrid with Ron and Harry and ask if she wanted to tag along….Ginny considered that for a moment, but every Halloween she'd spent trying to attract attention from Harry and Ron hadn't gone well…perhaps it was time for a new approach. Bion and Luna…were a bit less predictable…normally chances were about even that she could find them in the library…but she thought she remembered something about an expedition Luna had wanted to make to the Forbidden Forest…  
  
  
  
Ginny stifled a curse, looking over her shoulder to see if anyone had overheard. Several portraits hung along the corridor smirked. She coughed awkwardly, and gave them a half-apologetic look that only seemed to amuse them further. She'd just remembered she was supposed to be meeting them on the far side of Greenhouse Three, and, as a quick glance at her watch confirmed, she was nearly—  
  
  
  
"Late." Bion greeted her reproachfully.   
  
  
  
Ginny blushed as only she could. "Umm…sorry…"  
  
  
  
Bion grinned. "Just don't let it happen again," he said sternly. He said that every time. Luna giggled.   
  
  
  
Ginny coughed and tried—without success—to look a little less sheepish. "Could we just get into the Forest before Hagrid sees us, then?"  
  
  
  
"She can't keep time," Bion observed dryly, "but she does have a point." Luna giggled again.  
  
  
  
Ginny rolled her eyes, grabbed them both by the arm, and pulled.   
  
  
  
"So…" Bion said quite a bit later. "What are we looking for, exactly?"  
  
  
  
Ginny snickered a sigh of relief.   
  
  
  
Luna drew herself up to full and impressive height. "My father says there are several exotic species of semi-sentient magical herbs that can only be found in the Forest surrounding Hogwarts, including a particularly unusual--"  
  
  
  
"Hold a mo," Bion said, stopping so short Ginny ran directly into his back. Hard. "You mean you have us out here in the cold, in the wind, in a Forest reputed to be full of werewolves, vampires, and creatures that really don't like humans to look for a plant?"  
  
  
  
"Should have invited Neville then," Ginny said to herself very quietly. From the look in his eye, she didn't think she wanted to draw Bion's attention. Particularly as a surprisingly large raindrop happened to hit him on the nose.  
  
  
  
"Oh," Luna said, looking rapturous. "This is perfect."  
  
  
  
"Oh, yeah," Bion agreed as raindrops hissed off him in jets of steam. "Perfect."  
  
  
  
"Cheer up," Ginny advised in his ear. "We might see a few dryads or nymphs or something, and you wouldn't want to startle them by scowling."  
  
  
  
Bion scoffed, but he did look a little less annoyed by the prospect of seeing something as magical and elusive as a nymph.   
  
  
  
They actually had a quite good time after that, even if they were all slogging wetly in their robes and squelching in their shoes by the time they came sneezing inside. Ginny used a handy little charm Hermione had taught her in one of their study sessions with Neville to make them all a bit more presentable before they came into the Great Hall and under the knowing eye of Dumbledore, not that he would care even if he did know what they had been up to…or so Ginny speculated.   
  
  
  
The enchanted ceiling of the Great Hall rushed with clouds so dark and violent Ginny could almost hear them howl…Appropriately intimidating for the holiday, Ginny decided with a smirk, not to mention our guests. How nice of the weather to cooperate. She had to admit, however, that the result was quite stunning, especially with countless candles lining the sky, casting an ethereal glow into the storm so that it spread, diffused, through every breath of air, like the warmth of an autumn afternoon you could almost feel against your skin. Live bats floated across the sky, mingling freely with the entering ghosts, black and silver. And the corners overflowed with jack-o-lanterns with expressions ranging from jolly to threatening and everything in between. 


	29. We Are the Champions

Disclaimer--If you like it, assume I don't own it. The Potterverse belongs to JKR, Steve Klowes, Scholastic and WB. Fanon belongs to the multitude...I'm simply paying homage. Most of this scene is from GoF by JK Rowling. No copyright infringement is intended, and no money is being made.   
  
Author's Notes-- Progress has been a lot slower in this work, but I hope you'll all stick with me anyway. As you all know, I may not own it, but I work hard, and I love it, so if you read it and enjoy it, please review it! Please don't print or post this elsewhere without my knowledge. I'm a bit confused about the ruckus FF.net is making about "keyboard dialogue", so I hope they don't object to our notes, but it seems unfair to ask for your feedback and not respond (besides, I LIKE responding), so...shrugs  
  
JamieBell--I totally agree about Dumbledore. As for Luna, I don't think she NEEDED to, she just likes that sort of thing. ;-)  
  
Hairy-Hen--I think that's a good prediction! ;-)  
  
I'm-not-the-weakest-link--Thanks!  
  
J.Rhaye--Me too! Yup...Ginny does seem to be more a social butterfly than she thinks...interesting how we see ourselves as opposed to how others see us, isn't it? grins I liked the portraits too. winks And Bion and Luna were SOO much fun. giggles I think you're right...they strike a great balance. hugs  
  
EEDOE--Great! Hope you enjoyed the show! hugs  
  
Bill--Good question about the House Elves. grins Common sense is something I love to insert into the HP world...and Harry himself does note Ginny seems to posess it in OotP. winks I think the plants are the herbological equivalent of the Snorkrack myself, but Luna does surprise you on a regular basis. grins and shrugs Hmmm...You seem to know Luna pretty well. winks hugs   
  
Nothing, however, seemed to look more festive than Hagrid. Who, much to Ginny's surprise, came into the Great Hall without Hermione, Ron, or Harry in sight. Though he did seem to be holding Madam Maxim's hand. Hagrid looked warm and flushed and extremely red, though that could have been the result of the thorough scrubbing he appeared to have given himself recently if the moisture still sparkling slightly on his cheeks and dripping subtly onto the collar of his suit was any indication. Ginny blinked, rubbed at her eyes, and blinked again, but she appeared to have seen correctly--Hagrid was wearing a suit. The same suit of not-readily-identifiable but very hairy brown material he'd produced the year before in honor of Buckbeak, the Hippogriff Malfoy had accused of attacking him without provocation. He'd slicked his hair back into two thick bunches that vaguely resembled the pigtails Mum had used to put in Ginny's hair, only his hair was so thick and bushy he'd used some very dark and oily substance that didn't look at all pleasant to do it. Still, he didn't seem too uncomfortable, as he was staring at Madam Maxim in a rapt sort of daze Ginny had never even pictured him capable of. She certainly recognized what it meant--it looked exactly how she often felt looking at Harry. She sighed sympathetically.   
  
If Madam Maxim had noticed the sudden change in either Hagrid's look or expression, she was polite enough not to comment upon it, or even react to it. She looked quite cool, calm, and collected, and Ginny had to admit that while a bit more enthusiasm on her side might be nice, she could see what Hagrid might see in the Headmistress of Beauxbatons, and realized with a pang that maybe she should have tried to make a quick visit to Hagrid during the day, as he might not have much time to spend with her in the future. She spent more watching Hagrid and Madam Maxim and trying to deal with her conflicting feelings of joy and disappointment than she did enjoying Halloween or wondering about the names that might be coming out of the Goblet at the end of the evening. Chances were they wouldn't belong to anyone she knew anyway, and while she knew she'd enjoy watching the competition she couldn't really convince herself it had much--if anything at all--to do with her personally.   
  
Mr. Crouch looked as if he agreed, which Ginny found a bit surprising, but she didn't have much time to think about it, as Dumbledore extinguished the candles, leaving them in a darkness relieved only by the leering jack-o-lanterns in the corners and the near-blinding blue-white brilliance of the Goblet of Fire. "Any second," Lee whispered tensely. Ginny wondered if he and the twins had managed to get their names submitted. Before she could ask him, however, the flames of the Goblet seared red. Sparks showered in fountains. It was actually quite beautiful. A long ribbon of flame cracked like a whip upward, and a charred piece of parchment fluttered off it to Dumbledore. Dumbledore held it next to the once-again blue flame and read, "The champion for Durmstrang will be Viktor Krum."  
  
"What, is he the only student in that school?" Ginny demanded skeptically, but she couldn't even hear herself speak over the thundering applause and shouts of encouragement--including those from her somewhat star-struck brother. Ron. Ginny rolled her eyes.   
  
She felt relief, if not much interest, when the Goblet turned red again. "The champion for Beauxbatons is Fleur Delacour!"  
  
"It's her, Ron!" Harry shouted. Ginny glanced past Neville and Colin to gauge Hermione's reaction as the girl with the silvery-blonde hair swooped between the tables.   
  
"Oh, look," Hermione said, sounding relatively unconcerned. "They're all disappointed." Ginny, like Harry, followed her nod in the direction of the other students from Beauxbatons. Hermione wasn't just using them to draw attention away from herself. They were more than disappointed--two of the girls were actually sobbing. It doesn't look as if she's very popular, does it?Ginny murmured thoughtfully to herself. Harry's eyes met hers looking thoughtful, and, for just a heartbeat, she thought he was about to say something completely unrelated to anything around them, and she could hardly breathe. Then the Goblet of Fire sparked red again, and he jerked his head away in its direction. Ginny whimpered with disappointment. Actually whimpered. And immediately blushed with disgust at herself. "Oh," she hissed under her breath in deliberate imitation of Hermione, "Honestly!"  
  
"The Hogwarts' champion is Cedric Diggory!"  
  
So the Goblet proved worthy of its temporary occupation--according to what Tempest and Colin had told her when she first sat down--of the Sorting Hat's special stool. It was, in its own way, a brilliant choice. While every House was most inclined to think the best candidate would belong to them, Hufflepuff was always the least contentious among them, and consequently the most universally liked. And, in spite of the annoyed looks she saw Ron and the twins exchange, Cedric Diggory was one of the most likeable of a very likeable bunch. Even if he hadn't been, most of the boys would cheer him on because he was a Quidditch player, and the kind of guy they all secretly wanted to imitate, and the girls would be happy to watch him simply because he was nice to look at. Cedric would never have occurred to her if she'd been asked to name the perfect representative of Hogwarts and what it stood for, and yet, she had to admit he came close; he was kind, thoughtful, and polite to everyone, he seemed to be a good student without being overly pretentious or arrogant, and he was also willing to let loose and have a bit of fun. "Hail to the Champion of Hogwarts," Ginny said, only slightly archly, under her breath as she began to applaud with the rest of the Hall.   
  
"Excellent," Dumbledore said happily, and Ginny secretly suspected he, too, was impressed with the Goblet's choice as he continued, "Well, now we have our three champions, and I'm sure I can count upon all of you, including the remaining students from Beauxbatons and Durmstrang, to give your champions every ounce of support you can muster. By cheering your champion on, you will contribute in a very real--"  
  
Ginny's breath caught, and she started, surprised to hear the sound as Dumbledore broke off suddenly. The fire in the Goblet had turned red again, and sparks were flying from it more dramatically than ever. Ginny licked lips gone suddenly dry as the long flame erupted once again. It was bearing another piece of parchment.   
  
Time seemed to slow and thicken like an uncooperative potion as Dumbledore's hand shuddered toward the paper as it hung in midair. There was a pause the length of eternity, and twice as heavy. Ginny felt as if fate were sitting on her chest; it was hard to breathe. Dumbledore seemed to waver in and out of view as if she were watching him through the hazy heat of a summer's day as he read, "Harry Potter!" 


	30. The Results are In

Disclaimer--If you like it, assume I don't own it. The Potterverse belongs to JKR, Steve Klowes, Scholastic and WB. Fanon belongs to the multitude...I'm simply paying homage. Most of this scene is from GoF by JK Rowling. No copyright infringement is intended, and no money is being made.   
  
Author's Notes-- Progress has been a lot slower in this work, but I hope you'll all stick with me anyway. As you all know, I may not own it, but I work hard, and I love it, so if you read it and enjoy it, please review it! Please don't print or post this elsewhere without my knowledge. I'm a bit confused about the ruckus FF.net is making about "keyboard dialogue", so I hope they don't object to our notes, but it seems unfair to ask for your feedback and not respond (besides, I LIKE responding), so...shrugs  
  
Jallenttu--All latecomers are not only welcomed, but encouraged! I'm so glad to meet a new reader! :-D does happy dance I'm incredibly flattered that not only would you notice references to my earlier stories and go through all the effort to look them up, but you think they're a good parallel to JKR. I know she's much more polished than I am, but I do try my best to make Ginny's story a good companion to the novels, so it really makes my day when someone else notices that! Thanks! I hope you keep reading and commenting! :-)  
  
Aurora Grosskopf--The same goes for you as well. Thanks a bunch! :-)  
  
Rayny--WOW! That's high praise indeed. I love comments like that. :-D I don't mind you linked the story, I'm flattered. I would enjoy seeing the site, though, if that's okay. My email addy should be in my profile--you can send me a link. :-) Hope you keep reviewing!  
  
JamieBell--I'm glad you feel like you're finally seeing something "HAPPEN" instead of all these vague and dire feelings floating about, I agree, I think things will start to pick up from here on out. winks That's a good question. I probably didn't make it clear, but Ginny slept through the early morning, and then she went on that outing with Bion and Luna, bypassing the crowd in the Entry Hall. I have been extremely busy with stuff way over my head, but hopefully I'm starting to fall back into pace again now. Thanks for the support! hugs   
  
I'm-not-the -weakest-link--Thanks. :-)  
  
Kattcha91--Hope you're not disappointed with the result crosses fingers I think Ginny will slowly grow to realize her own strengths and enjoy them instead of worrying so much about her weaknesses. It's wisdom and experience...and that is SOOO worth the time it takes! Hope you keep reviewing! :-D  
  
Raiining--This chapter is a bit longer than usual...I hope that helps make up for the last one--I hadn't realized how short it was until you pointed it out! looks embarrassed I agree with your assessment of Lee and the Twins. laughs and winks  
  
J.Rhaye--Yeah...I do feel Ginny's pain...that's really crushing. :-( giggles I like her spunk with the Hermy-ism too. winks I rather like Cedric. He was a very well-written and tender character. A good hero. Hope you enjoy this one! hugs  
  
EEDOE--I think that stage of romance is especially sweet when it happens in your middle or later years...you appreciate it so much more. smiles I liked that sentence too. grins Love ya! hugs  
  
Bill--Your review made mine! ;-) I would definitely say it is very frustrating for any girl to see that sort of thing, but most particularly at that age. sighs You make a good point...I'm sure she'll hear all about it later. ;-) Ginny, cynical? As if! snorts and grins evilly I hope this is fast enough...it isn't up to my top speed, unfortunately. sighs hugs  
  
I hope I've responded to everyone personally. If I've missed you, I apologize. Please rest assured ALL reviews and reviewers are important!

* * *

Ginny's first reaction, which was nearly over before it began, was a spark of disgusted disbelief that Harry obviously hadn't appreciated the prospect of a peaceful and quiet year. Her second reaction, which occurred almost simultaneous to the first, was a completely unexpected rush of annoyance he'd managed to subvert the rules more spectacularly than the twins apparently had. The third, really the first to last long enough for her to fully register its presence, was disappointment in Dumbledore's lapse of omniscience ; suddenly she felt very small, very unsafe, and very disillusioned. Her last, and longest lasting, reaction was confusion—even if Harry had ignored his chance to be a spectator and gotten past Dumbledore somehow, it shouldn't have mattered. Hogwarts already had a Champion. Harry's name should never have been mentioned.   
  
"That cup's defective," she snorted in derision. "It chose Cedric Diggory already—I mean it's making Hogwarts—not to mention Britain!—look bad—we can't even manage a time-honored tournament with bollixing it up somehow!"  
  
But she hardly heard the end of her own sentence. It was swallowed up in the strange and heavy silence that seemed to be preceding Harry up the aisle. He moved reluctantly but inevitably forward as if compelled by an outside force greater than himself, the air around him congealing and thickening itself so time itself seemed to fall into slow motion. There was an air of surreality about the whole scene that left Ginny with an uncomfortably familiar feeling of detachment—as if she were watching herself from a great and insurpassable distance, vividly reliving her experience in Tom's secret Chamber. She found herself shivering with violence, struck by a sudden sense of inevitable doom, remembered and foreseen, that left her stomach hollow and her lungs empty.   
  
"Ginny," Neville whispered around several Gryffindors. "You look awful. Are you okay?"  
  
Ginny attempted a reassuring smile, felt the resulting nauseous grimace, and knew she'd failed. "I must…be…a little…overwhelmed by the excitement. You're sweet to notice, Neville, really, but I'll be fine in a minute."  
  
"Well…if you're sure," Neville said, looking anything but sure himself.   
  
Ginny nodded, feeling dizzy, as the students around them, having looked around, began to realize nothing else would be forthcoming that night and began, rather confusedly, to disperse. Unready—perhaps unable—to face people in the iron confinement of the pessimism that had fallen over her, Ginny wandered absently into the much-needed space and air of the night-darkened grounds.   
  
Finding an out-of-the-way and sheltered spot, she rooted through her pockets until she eventually produced not only her wand, but a crumpled and spotted bit of scrap parchment and a very tattered stub of quill Hermione had charmed to work like a muggle device she called a fowntin pin or something equally ridiculous. Sitting down on a rather damp patch of ground, she spread the parchment out in her lap. "Lumos" she murmured softly, setting the tip of her wand aglow with creamy silver light. Laying it along the top edge of her parchment, she took up the quill.   
  
Dear Professor Lupin,  
  
She supposed she shouldn't be addressing him that way since he wasn't technically a professor anymore, but she didn't care. It seemed impossibly wrong and disrespectful to call him by his first name, or even Mr., and he'd always be a professor to her.   
  
I'm not exactly sure why I'm writing you now…or even what it is I'm writing you about…  
  
We had a feast at school tonight, only this year it wasn't just to celebrate Halloween. Professor Dumbledore was going to announce the three school champions for the Tri-Wizard Tournament that had been chosen by this really strange cup called the Goblet of Fire…anyway…things seemed okay at first. The Goblet named all three champions—Cedric Diggory was the Champion for Hogwarts, he's from Hufflepuff—only it didn't stop! It named another champion. And not just any champion…Harry was named. Dumbledore didn't say much, he just called Harry up to join the other champions. But I don't think he was expecting it. He didn't look very pleased.   
  
It worries me that he didn't know what was going on…and not only because Harry was named…Harry's not the Hogwarts Champion, Cedric is. Harry's another champion, the fourth. Even if he managed to get his name in the Goblet somehow, I don't think he could manage that, and I'm really, really, really worried, because if he couldn't get past Dumbledore—and Fred and George didn't—who could? Or would?  
  
For some reason, I can't help thinking Tom's involved. It's not like he hasn't tried to hurt Harry before, but if hurting Harry was all he wanted, he could do it a lot more easily than this. If Tom's responsible, he's after something, and I'm terribly afraid of what that could be…of what that could mean.  
  
I wish you were here…I could really use your advice right now. I hope you're well.   
  
Love,   
  
Ginny.   
  
Finished, she stuck the parchment and quill in her pocket, and turned back toward the school and caught sight of the Quidditch Pitch dark and endless at her feet. Flying was only a temporary escape from the ground and the worries that weighted it in so many ways, but she'd long ago learned that the freedom and the reprieve often made them seem less heavy and unmanageable when you returned to pick them up again. And if not, well, at least you'd had a brief moment of fun without them. She laughed, giddy with the unexpected answer to her problems, and made her way—very carefully—to the broom shed, the lock of which Lee had long ago taught her to jimmy open with ease, to claim a school broom.   
  
The sight of someone standing far below, waving her hands like an out-of-control windmill brought her back to herself sometime later. She drifted to a slightly grudging, and definitely surprised halt. "Hermione? What are you doing here?"  
  
"Lee told me you come out here sometimes—I was looking for you—I had no idea you could fly like that—for a minute I thought you were Harry!"  
  
Ginny blinked, uncertain of a response. "You were looking for me?" she repeated momentarily, but without much interest. "Why?"  
  
Hermione paused, brought up short by a question so far from her own current line of thought. "What? Uh…Neville…her said you weren't feeling well last night…I…wanted…to be sure you were okay."  
  
"Oh," Ginny said softly, simultaneously feeling guilty for worrying her friends over nothing and not at all convinced it was nothing. "Thanks. I am. Okay—I mean."  
  
"Then where have you been?" Hermione demanded, immediately affronted. "I really could have used your help—Harry and Ron are being completely unmanageable."  
  
"So?" Ginny asked blandly.   
  
"Someone has to convince them they're being ridiculous—they aren't going to listen to me."  
  
"What do you expect me to do about it?" Ginny said calmly. Hermione knew full well Ron and Harry didn't know she was alive let alone cared about what she had to say. Somehow, though, Ginny doubted Hermione would—or could—realize she was being just as ridiculous as either of the boys, worrying about their reactions to the night before instead of the much-further-reaching implications…but she'd been over all that.   
  
Hermione opened her mouth as if to give voice to an insultingly obvious reply and stopped with a funny look on her face.   
  
"Exactly," said Ginny, amused in spite of the gravity of the situation. "I imagine they'll come to their senses eventually."   
  
"Maybe," Hermione agreed doubtfully, "under any other circumstances, I'd agree with you, but Ron's lost all sense of proportion this time…he refuses to see the situation with any reason, and Harry…could be killed in competition before he comes to his senses!"   
  
Ginny sighed, pulling Hermione to her in a hug that smothered the dire predictions issuing from her mouth. Eventually she talked herself into testing the efficacy of the effect by stepping back a bit and loosening her grip slightly. "Hey, Hermione, is that toast you're holding?"  
  
Hermione frowned, looking down in bemusement. "Oh, I forgot! It's for Harry—I figured he wouldn't want to come down to breakfast if--"  
  
"Why don't you go ahead and catch him then?" Ginny prompted indulgently.   
  
"Do you want to come with me?" Hermione suggested with a speculative look in the depths of her brown eyes.   
  
Ginny felt an answering surge of wishful expectation twinge in the pit of her stomach like a dull ache, but she shook her head, feeling the first faint rays of the sun spark hotly along the vivid red brilliance of her hair, warming her whole head. "I'll go get breakfast in the Great Hall." And mail this letter along the way, she added to herself grimly.   
  
"Oh," Hermione said, stuggling not to look disappointed. "Okay…"   
  
"And maybe," Ginny added casually, "try to diffuse whatever's got Ron in a twist."  
  
Hermione shrieked wordless joy, clapping her hands together in an explosive burst. The illuminated glow of hope radiating from her face stabbed Ginny to the core.  
  
"I can't promise anything.," she warned, but Hermione didn't care.   
  
"If anyone can manage Ron, you can, and once he's calmed down, he'll listen to Harry if Harry will just talk to him…and I'll work on Harry. We'll have it all cleared up in no time!" 


	31. Ron

Disclaimer--If you like it, assume I don't own it. The Potterverse belongs to JKR, Steve Klowes, Scholastic and WB. Fanon belongs to the multitude...I'm simply paying homage. Most of this scene is from GoF by JK Rowling. No copyright infringement is intended, and no money is being made.   
  
Author's Notes-- Progress has been a lot slower in this work, but I hope you'll all stick with me anyway. As you all know, I may not own it, but I work hard, and I love it, so if you read it and enjoy it, please review it! Please don't print or post this elsewhere without my knowledge. I'm a bit confused about the ruckus FF.net is making about "keyboard dialogue", so I hope they don't object to our notes, but it seems unfair to ask for your feedback and not respond (besides, I LIKE responding).  
  
CometMoon—I agree whole-heartedly. ;-)  
  
Raiining—I love that I'm still writing, too! Glad you enjoyed the new POV on the surprise Champion. :-)  
  
JamieBell—I'd be annoyed on behalf of my brothers, too. I'm excited we're getting into the action more, myself. This should be fun. :-)  
  
J.Rhaye—I agree. _Boys_—especially Harry and Ron—are a bit thick! laughs Ginny's had the benefit of some nasty experience. Other people don't have as much reason to be concerned with magic items acting oddly….and they are kids. Yeah, poor Hermione—Ron and Harry keep her busy! I hope you really can see Ginny growing, developing, and evolving as the story unfolds—that's what I'm working to portray, and sometimes I'm not sure how good the portrayal is! hugs  
  
EEDOE—Yeah. I always think most reactions do have more than one component…we just tend to notice the most predominant one…only sometimes there's more than one! I agree…if Ginny knew EVERYTHING that the reader knows, where would the fun be? I had to make the comparison, Fred and George made me. winks hugs  
  
Bill—I couldn't have described Ginny's outlook or the situation between her and Harry better myself. grins I'll try to instill some humor…Too much angst gets kind of boring after a bit. Yes, yes, and…well…she's young and not entirely sure HOW to act, or even if she SHOULD. Hopefully more age and experience will change that. How could Ginny NOT write Remus? Some things just have to be done. grins Ginny flies almost all night—she did write a letter—but that sort of thing is easy enough to do when you loose track of yourself in something you love. hugs

* * *

From Hermione's description, Ginny had expected to find Ron in full and splendid auto-rant, but he was surprisingly pale and quiet when she arrived. The twins, on the other hand, looked absolutely delighted to see her, and she could tell they were dying to launch into full-frontal analysis of how Harry had managed it and what his chances in the competition were. She held them off with the slightest and most imperceptible shake of her head, and was halfway through a less than fascinating bowl of oatmeal with all three of them watching her all too closely, when Ron gave a violent start.   
  
"I don't believe it!" Ginny and the twins exchanged glances, drawing mental lots as to which had to encourage elaboration on this extraordinary proclamation, but Ron, oblivious, was already resolving the problem. "I almost forgot! And I've only being doing everything I could think of--"  
  
"Everything Hermione could think of, more like," George whispered knowingly to Fred.   
  
"Ginny!"  
  
Ginny blinked, somewhat uncomfortably at a loss as to what concerning her Ron might have forgotten.   
  
"Happy Birthday!"  
  
Ginny's throat almost instantly tightened, making speech all but impossible. Somehow, she, too, had forgotten her birthday, only to be presented—without thought or desire—with the one thing she'd really wanted and hadn't dared to expect.   
  
He'd remembered.   
  
Ron, her brother, the one who seemed to have forgotten all the years they'd been one another's only friend.   
  
Ron had remembered.   
  
"Oh, Gin, don't cry," he implored, alarmed by her reaction. "I'm sorry I almost forgot again, really—don't let it ruin your birthday...you're supposed to be happy!"  
  
She threw her arms about him in response, gurgling incoherently. He patted her back awkwardly, looking over her shoulder at the twins. Whom, she had no doubt, looked equally terrified.   
  
"Hurry up and finish your breakfast," Ron commanded. "I want to show you what I got—Go on."  
  
Ginny grinned down at her unexciting porridge. "I didn't really want this anyway."  
  
Ron whooped and jumped up, grabbing her arm. "Then what are we waiting for? Let's get this show on the road!"  
  
"What about Harry and Hermione?" Ginny asked breathlessly as she rushed to keep up, "Shouldn't we wait on them?"  
  
"Oh," Ron scoffed, coming up short, "There's no need to bother Harry. He's _far _too busy and important for the likes of _us_."  
  
"Ron!" Ginny remonstrated immediately. "You know that's not true! If Harry doesn't have time for you, why do I hardly ever see you two apart?" But she couldn't help hearing the words as she said them—it was true. Harry always had time for Ron, but didn't she spend most of her time thinking neither of them knew she existed? And Ron hadn't remembered her birthday a single time since he and Harry had been friends…until now. She tried to ignore the sudden plummeting of her heart through her stomach, tried to reverse it before it began, but she didn't succeed—not entirely.  
  
"Yeah," Ron growled darkly, "well, we're not together now, are we? You think you know somebody…"  
  
Ginny knew she ought to press the issue, but she wasn't sure she had the intestinal fortitude to manage it. Anyway, she knew Ron well enough to know he couldn't hold a grudge indefinitely—her conscience twinged at the memory of how he nearly had the year before—he'd forgive Harry as soon as he'd cooled off a bit. All he needed was a little space. Anyway, Harry had managed much worse situations on his own and been just fine. He didn't need her help, and might not appreciate her meddling in his problem. Besides, it was her birthday! She had a right to enjoy it instead of obsessing over Harry Potter, and she was going to do just that.   
  
Ron hadn't been pulling her back to Gryffindor Tower as she'd assumed—they were in the inner courtyard. Ginny remembered telling him once—in a brief instance he'd happened to notice her existence her first year—that she loved the beauty of its open walls twined round with gnarled trees (which were currently in the now-sputtering vestiges of their explosive autumnal color). She thought he hadn't been listening. The courtyard was almost always empty, a trait Ginny loved almost as well as its beauty, but it wasn't empty now. It took a few seconds of staring to realize why.   
  
Tempest, Colin, and all the girls from Ginny's dormitory were there, Fred and George had already located Lee, Neville was off in one corner, looking extremely shy, and Hagrid seemed to take up half the courtyard by himself. "Hey!" Ron objected, looking extremely affronted. "Where's Hermione? She must have skived off on account of him."  
  
"That's okay," Ginny soothed, patting his arm. "I'm happy just knowing she planned to come."  
  
"Well, _I'm_ not," Ron snapped, but he looked somewhat mollified.   
  
"I can't believe you organized this all on your own!" Ginny gushed, far too happy to pay any notice to minor flaws—though she did wish Professor Lupin could have attended.   
  
Ron looked embarrassed. "Well, Fred and George caught wind of it, and for some reason they insisted on inviting Lee--" Ginny grinned—"and Hermione did help me a bit—I can't believe she's going to miss this!"  
  
"Well, you two did a fantastic job," Ginny told him. "I can't imagine a better gift for my birthday."  
  
"Sure," Ron said, looking uncomfortably pleased, "Well, anytime—you deserve it." 


	32. Gift of the Unexpected

Disclaimer--If you like it, assume I don't own it. The Potterverse belongs to JKR, Steve Klowes, Scholastic and WB. Fanon belongs to the multitude...I'm simply paying homage. Most of this scene is from GoF by JK Rowling. No copyright infringement is intended, and no money is being made.  
  
Author's Notes-- Progress has been a lot slower in this work, but I hope you'll all stick with me anyway. As you all know, I may not own it, but I work hard, and I love it, so if you read it and enjoy it, please review it! Please don't print or post this elsewhere without my knowledge. I'm a bit confused about the ruckus is making about "keyboard dialogue", so I hope they don't object to our notes, but it seems unfair to ask for your feedback and not respond (besides, I LIKE responding).  
  
JamieBell--Hopefully this chapter will make up for the last one being short! As for Ron, I think he was trying to concentrate on Ginny, not how mad he was--for once!  
  
I'm not the Weakest link--nice to see you back. Hope you enjoyed your holiday!  
  
Raiining--Thanks for the head's up. I hope this chapter will address some of your concerns, but I'll definitely try to keep from rushing--it's hard when I really want to get things out, but I agree, it's important.  
  
Rayny--cool :-) I'm honored to be part of your blog. I agree...Ron HAS to be a bit jealous...but that's probably good for him. snickers Hope you keep reviewing.  
  
Auburnbeagle--I'm glad you like it. I hope you read far enough to find this response, and I'd love to hear from you again.  
  
werewolf-0194--Thanks. I'm glad you like them enough to read up to date. :-) I hope I continue to hold your interest. :-) Please feel free to review again.   
  
J.Rhaye--I know what you mean!! It feels like YEARS since I've gotten to add to this story, but it's not because I haven't been thinking about it! You're right...Ginny has lots of practice at accepting the other priorities in people's lives...it's sad, but she handles it well. :-) I eagerly await your comments, too. winks hugs  
  
EEDOE--I do, indeed. It just SEEMS like the right day for Ginny, don't you think? grins and winks I loved that mental image, too. YEAH!! Go, GINNY! Go, RON! hugs  
  
Bill--There for about 30 seconds, I nearly forgot myself. looks sheepish and grins Yeah, I definitely feel bad for Bion and Luna...they're far too important to be left out...but...for continuity...what's a girl to do? sighs I agree about how Ginny will see the timing of this party...it IS pretty pivotal...Yes, somehow, I suspect the angst isn't too far off...laughs Good question...I'm sure I don't know...Miss you. hugs  
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------  
  
The day wiled away in games of Exploding Chess, Black Magic, Wizard's Chess, Tag, and as many other childhood games as they could remember, interrupted at intervals during which they stuffed themselves as full as they possibly could in the vain attempt to diminish the mass of sweets Fred and George had somehow managed to produce. As first faint ribbons of cobalt and mercury twilight were twining their way along the margins of the sky, Ron attempted to get everyone's attention. Ten minutes later, everyone actually paid attention when Fred and George conjured a small explosion, and Ron announced it was time for Ginny to open her presents…which was news to Ginny, who had assumed the party was her present.   
  
She was still trying to adjust to this newest revelation when Patricia dropped the first package in her lap. "This is from all us girls," she said, indicating Ginny's other roommates.   
  
"This" was a copy of "Simple Beauty Charms Every Girl Should Know" and a copy of "Teen Witch"—"The first issue of your new subscription," Patricia explained as Ginny stared at it uncertainly.  
  
"Oh, thanks, guys, I don't know what to say. This is just so--"  
  
The girls beamed at one another, obviously pleased. "Well, we thought you deserved a little pampering this year for your birthday," Tempest said decisively. "After all, you're thirteen now—a real teenager, and your brothers are great, but there are some things guys just don't appreciate."   
  
Ginny tipped her head to one side, considering, and was slightly disturbed to find this made sense. "You know…you're right…I hadn't really thought of it like that…"  
  
She opened Colin's gift next, a simple cherry wood frame…containing a collage. She stared at it for ages, picking out photos of herself with Colin and Tempest, with Hermione and Neville, with Ron, with Lee and Fred and George…there were even photos of Hagrid, of Professor McGonagall, of Professor Dumbledore and—most amazing and wonderful of all—Professor Lupin…she felt tears kiss the back of her eyes with stinging love. Somehow, Colin had even managed to include photos he'd snapped of Bion and Luna in Potions and at the Ravenclaw table in the Great Hall.   
  
"Colin," Ginny breathed through a throat gone suddenly stuffy, "this is absolutely incredible—I can't believe you did this all on your own. Just wait until you're a famous photographer…this will be worth a fortune—and I'm NOT going to sell it!" Colin blushed in a way to do a Weasley proud, from the roots of his hair to the tips of his fingers. Ginny grinned and hugged him wildly.   
  
There was a basket of herbs Hagrid had collected, taking time and care to make beautiful little bouquets with the herbs she had told him she most liked when he'd shown her his garden. "Thought they'd make your room smell nice," he explained shyly, "maybe bring you sweet dreams."  
  
"Oh, Hagrid!" Ginny said, and the two words said so much as she kissed his cheek.   
  
"Aww…'snot that much really," Hagrid grumbled, obviously touched, "just a few weeds."  
  
"I love them," Ginny said firmly, and set them aside gently.   
  
Neville gave her a pretty red-and-yellow pot containing a tiny, silvered, gnarled willow with long, frothy fountains of leaves. "It's magnificent," Ginny breathed, "I love willow trees...but, Neville, you know I have a black thumb! What if I kill it?"  
  
"You won't," he assured her, looking embarrassed but confident, "It's pretty hardy compared to magical plants—and I'll help you take care of it."  
  
She gave him a long, fainting look of gratitude that made everyone—even Neville—laugh.  
  
"Here now," Fred said, mock-severely, "that's enough of that."  
  
"Pay attention to your gifts, Gin," George added, thrusting a huge package that nearly obscured her line of vision into her lap. "Can't have you looking at, Neville, you know."  
  
"Yes, no offense, old chap," added Fred solemnly, "just a brother's duty, you know, protect her honor and all that."  
  
Ginny shrieked with a mortification only half-pretended, and the twins ducked—somewhat hurriedly—out of her line of sight. The oversize package turned out to be from the Burrow; Ginny set notes from Mum, Dad, Bill, Charlie, and Percy aside to read at her leisure later, and rummaged through the contents she knew her guests wanted to see. An impossibly delicate glass bottle Bill said was meant to hold perfume filled with shimmering golden sand radiating the warmth of Egypt in her palm, Charlie sent a set of cleverly designed filigree and enamel eggs that nested inside each other, Dad sent her several new pairs of thick wool socks with the usual muggle addition of something she'd have to ask Hermione to identify, while the copy of "Your OWLS, A Preparatory Guide" could only be from Percy, and, to round out the whole, there were four dozen homemade donuts from Mum. To Ginny's surprise, Mum hadn't sent the usual sweater…instead, there was a little vial of ever-so-slightly tinted water Ginny recognized as the lavender water she helped Mum make every summer—her first perfume.  
  
"Some bloody git's forgotten to put his name on this one," Ron said shortly, waving about a slender little rectangle wrapped in plain brown paper.  
  
Ginny snatched it from his hands which such violence he nearly fell over, something she hardly had time to notice before she tore into the paper, knowing before she opened it who it was from.   
  
"Exciting," George observed, staring at the unlabeled little book that fell into her lap. Even its cover was a drab, unexciting shade of dirty grey.   
  
"Let's move on then to something more exciting, then, shall we?" Ginny asked, her voice a bit too breezy. Waiting to open the book was torture when she was dying to examine what had to be a little known and very authoritative text on Occulumency, but it was better not to encourage people to wonder who had sent it if she preferred to keep her friendship with Professor Lupin secret, and, for now at least, she most definitely did. She had to assume he did, too, or he could have signed his name to the wrapping.   
  
"Yeah, we'll show you what a real gift should be like," Fred teased haughtily.   
  
Ginny had to admit the huge box of Exploding Bon-bons Lee and the twins had all pitched in to buy was pretty impressive. Looking at it certainly made her mouth water.   
  
"I thought Hermione wanted to give you this herself," Ron said crossly, "but as she's not here, I suppose--" He broke off suddenly, an odd look on his face. Ginny stared, and suddenly, she heard it too, faintly, but growing closer…  
  
"Ouch, oh, sorry, Neville, that is—oh, excuse me, Patricia—uh could I…OW! Wait! Ummm…" Hermione tumbled between Fred and George landing nearly at Ginny's feet. She looked up, nearly panting, her face flushed. "Oh, Ginny! Happy Birthday!! Sorry, I'm so late, but--"  
  
Ginny just grinned. "Talk about making an entrance! Could someone hand Hermione some butterbeer? She looks like she could use a drink."  
  
"Thanks," Hermione said, accepting the bottle with a sigh. "What have I missed?"  
  
"What d'ye mean?" Ron snapped, impatient. "What've you missed? What haven't you missed is more like—where have you bee--"  
  
"I was just getting ready to open your present," Ginny interrupted, staring Ron straight in the eye with a look she'd learned from their mother. Ron subsided, looking rather startled.   
  
"Oh, I'm glad I didn't miss it!" Hermione exclaimed, sitting up, rapt, as Ron somewhat grudgingly handed Ginny the package.   
  
It was, predictably, a book…but unlike any spell book Ginny had ever seen. She stared at the peaceful painting of the rather ugly stone house on the cover, confused. "'Mansfield Park'?" she read, looking at Hermione in question.   
  
"It's a novel—rather like the one my parents sent me—remember?" Hermione said encouragingly. "It's a story…in this case, not a true story, but make believe—about regular muggle people. This one's quite famous. I think you'll really like it."  
  
"I'm sure I'll love it," Ginny said, giving her a hug. "Thanks so much, everyone!"  
  
"We're not done with you just yet," Ron said in a good impression of Dad attempting to be stern. "You still have to open my present." There was a look of suppressed excitement about him that completely erased his earlier annoyance.   
  
In fact, he looked so…so…alight with some intense anticipation Ginny couldn't help thinking the real present was the look on his face as she turned the package over in her lap.   
  
When she saw what she was holding, she felt faint. "I don't believe it," she said weakly as the world slowly stopped spinning. "This can't be…what I think it is." Her whole body tingled where it touched it with an electric disbelief and the intoxication of remembered childhood joy.  
  
"Oh, it is," Ron said confidently. "It most definitely is."  
  
"'The Adventures of Martin Miggs, the Mad Muggle, Issue One'" Ginny read, tracing the words with a reverent finger. "But, Ron, these are impossible to find—how did you get this?"  
  
Ron shrugged negligently. "Told Mum and Dad what I wanted to get you and why. They let me do extra chores til I had enough to pay for it, and Dad picked it up for me on his way to work in London one day."  
  
They had spent hours together when they were one another's only friends, reading every issue of "Martin Miggs, The Mad Muggle" they could find...Their great disappointment had been that they had never been able to find issue one. They didn't know how the story began…Ginny stared at the comic book in its slick plastic envelope, and forced words past the lump in her throat. "Have you read it?"  
  
Ron looked offended. " 'Course not," he said indignantly. "I wouldn't read it before you—it's yours!"  
  
"Want to read it together?" Ginny asked, painfully aware that she was holding her breath…even now, after all this time…  
  
Ron's whole body seemed to flare like a Filibuster's Wet Start Firework. "Do I?" He responded positively.   
  
"Okay…meet you tonight by the Common Room fire." Ginny said, amazed people hadn't been blinded by her glow.   
  
Her first birthday as a teenager was a resounding success—she hoped it was a sign…she was going to have a chance to be happy, to be quiet, to be secure…to be normal at last. But…no matter what happened, she had today…the memory of one perfect day, and that alone was more than she could ask. 


	33. In the Library Again

Disclaimer--If you like it, assume I don't own it. The Potterverse belongs to JKR, Steve Klowes, Scholastic and WB. Fanon belongs to the multitude...I'm simply paying homage. Most of this scene is from GoF by JK Rowling. No copyright infringement is intended, and no money is being made.  
  
Author's Notes-- As you may know, a couple of details concerning Ginny have recently been revealed by JKR. The first is Ginny's full name, the second her birthdate. For those of you who are wondering, I hope to EVENTUALLY alter my stories to correct Ginny's name. However, after due consideration, I have decided to allow myself the slight diversion of keeping Ginny's birthdate as it is, on November 1st. I just like it that way, and writer's must have their quirks.;-)  
  
Progress has been a lot slower in this work, but I hope you'll all stick with me anyway. As you all know, I may not own it, but I work hard, and I love it, so if you read it and enjoy it, please review it! Please don't print or post this elsewhere without my knowledge.  
  
Alicia Davis--Thanks for the enthusiastic encouragement! It means a lot to me that you've enjoyed my little series so much. :-) You're quite right about the regular reviewers being very important to this story. Fanfiction is a very interactive medium and it sort of grows up between the writer and the readers. I hope you read far enough to find this response, and please feel free to become a regular reviewer yourself!  
  
Rayny--I agree a complete disregard of such girly stuff might be the most predictable response, but one of the great things about writing characters is the ability to shade nuances of their characters instead of relying on extremes. I love variety! :-)  
  
JamieBell--Excellent point about the sweater! I'm not sure either, but since (in this story) Ginny's b-day is in November, it seemed reasonable she'd get sweaters for both her b-day and Christmas--I know I do. :-) I'm not sure I could have held off on reading the comic book either...that really is a gesture!  
  
I'm Not the Weakest Link--Thanks. Me too. :-)  
  
Raiining--I'm glad you liked the chapter--I feel better knowing it didn't feel as hurried.:-) I will certainly try not to burn out...thanks for the concern!You can reread book 4 if you want (I know I do a lot), but I'm not sure it would really clue you in too much about Hermione...I just had a generalized idea she was keeping Harry company. As for how Ron's relationship with Ginny will be affected when he makes up with Harry...grins  
  
J. Rhaye--My feelings on Ginny's gift from her roomates exactly. :-) I am a true Jane Austen addict, and Mansfield Park is only slightly (if at all, I can never decide) below Pride and Prejudice on my list of favorites. As you point out, the story is about a girl who is madly in love with a man who thinks of her as a sister...and Fanny and Ginny do seem to have some similarities, so I thought Mansfield Park was the perfect way to introduce Ginny to the muggle novel...I might bring this up again later (if not, perhaps you and I could discuss in email?)...we'll have to see how the story develops. sighs One simple act--EXACTLY! grins Thanks for such a great review! hugs  
  
EEDOE--I'm beginning to think last-minute entries by Hermione are like potato chips (hopefully this will make sense when you read the next chapter...if not, I'll TRY to explain. grins wryly) Yeah, I like that Ron didn't mind displaying affection in a crowd, too. For a boy his age, that's HUGE. I'm so glad you thought the family gifts were in character--that was a big concern of mine! Looking forward to your next review...and your next chapter! hugs  
  
Bill--I agree...but as Austen points out in P&P, the best sure guard against disappointment is some small grievance at the outset. grins and shrugs I must admit, I hadn't really intended for Harry to give Ginny a gift (the whole preoccupation with the Tournament combined with his tendency to forget she exists), but now that your review has gotten me thinking about it, I might be able to include something of the sort...of course, my stories tend to do things I never expected, so I can't really promise! I hope the chapter is worth the wait...looking forward to your review! hugs

* * *

Everywhere Ginny went the next day there were groups of people whispering. Most of the conversations seemed to include the words "nerve," "disgusting." And even "comeuppance," which didn't bode very well for Harry.  
  
Even Bion had something to say. "So Potter's playing hero again—I guess he just couldn't stand the idea there might be something happening around here he wasn't involved in, huh, Ginny?"  
  
Ginny nearly dropped the book she was in the process of slamming onto the table. She caught it and shoved it into place, nearly upsetting Luna's cauldron in the process, and stared at Bion, her heartbeat suddenly violent and trembling.  
  
"Harry didn't enter himself—it's a plot," Luna said matter-of-factly, and Ginny jumped at this spoken summary of her own silent convictions.  
  
"A plot," Bion repeated skeptically. "By who exactly?"  
  
Luna shrugged, nearly dislodging the wand she'd used to secure her hair. "Whoever has an interest in seeing Harry compete," she said calmly.  
  
Bion snorted. "Oh, sure. You-Know-Who took the time out of his busy schedule to sabotage some school competition—that's far-fetched even for you, Luna."  
  
Luna shrugged again as Ginny eyed Snape uneasily. He was occupied in berating a tall Ravenclaw boy for the way he was stirring his cauldron, but he'd undoubtedly be nasty if he caught them talking, especially about Harry—and Ginny wasn't at all sure their own potion was up to a close observation. "I didn't say it was someone who wanted him to lose," Luna pointed out.  
  
Bion rolled his eyes, but didn't comment. "Hey, Ginny," he said—so loudly Snape paused and looked at their table, prompting forced smiles and held breath from all three of them—"what I want to know is," he continued so softly Ginny could scarcely hear him, "how did he get his name in with Dumbledore trying to stop him?"  
  
Suddenly her day made more sense. Bion's greeting had given her the impression he was outraged—like everyone else—at Harry's participation in the Tournament in a way she hadn't expected of him, but with the realization he was more interested in how Harry had entered than in his entry itself, she belated understood the comment had been nothing more than satirical observation. It was a joke. She sighed as some of the furious affront subsided from her blood stream.  
  
"I haven't the least idea," she said as flippantly as she could manage. "You know he doesn't talk to me."  
  
"He looks at you," Luna said solemnly. Her silver-blue eyes were wide as they met Ginny's as if trying to convey some deeper meaning. She started what have been intended as elaboration, only to have the wand in her hair shift at an unfortunate angle, starting a fire.  
  
Ginny gave a small shriek—less of fear than surprise—and hastily doused it with Tinyberry Extract.  
  
"Miss Weasley," Snape said silkily, "need I remind you this is a classroom, not some sort of free-for-all? I will not tolerate unnecessary waste of ingredients, particularly when that waste disrupts my classes."  
  
"But, Professor Snape," Bion said hesitantly, "Ginny was only trying to--"  
  
"Profeesor, Luna's hair--"  
  
"Ginny was only helping me, Professor--"  
  
Snape coldly looked down his nose at them, cutting off all three explanations at once. "10 points each from your respective houses, and another 5 from Ravenclaw for Miss Lovegood's carelessness. Must I tell you again, Miss Lovegood, your wand is not a toy, and should be treated with respect."  
  
"I forgot," Luna said, sounding mildly chastened, but not really sorry. She did reach up and take her wand out of her hair, though.  
  
"Furthermore," Snape continued mercilessly, "fascinating a subject as Potter inevitably seems to be, even if I was inclined to discuss him after my fourth-year class today, you ought to be paying attention to the lesson. This Shrinking Solution is entirely the wrong shade of green--"  
  
"What!" Ginny protested without thinking. Their Shrinking Solution was a bit off, but she was sure it was the right shade. "No it's not—I mean--" She stopped belatedly as Snape's dark eyes seared into her face.  
  
"Another 10 points from Gryffindor. Until you can teach the class yourself, potions will meet my standards and not yours—is that clear, Miss Weasley?"  
  
Ginny, who'd spent enough time reviewing the solution the year before with Hermione and Neville, thought she probably could teach her classmates to brew, but saying so was hardly prudent. "Yes, Professor Snape," she said as deferentially as she could…which wasn't very.  
  
Professor Snape made them stay behind to "correct" their perfectly acceptable solution to his specifications. By the time they had finished, the back of Ginny's neck ached from being bent so she could look down into the cauldron. Still, that was the only thing that had gone wrong, which was almost too quiet and easy for a Monday. From the laughter and dozens of flashing buttons filling the halls with POTTER STINKS, she could easily conjecture Harry couldn't say the same. Mulling over the idea what she could say to encourage him and how he would react when she did—and trying not to consider whether or not Luna was right about him looking at her, and exactly what kind of look it might be—Ginny made her way to the library for her usual study session with Hermione and Neville.  
  
Neville arrived a few minutes later, struggling through the knots of girls congregated to ogle Krum. Ginny had to admit she was impressed he'd started researching the first task already…especially since he didn't know what it was. "Hey, Ginny," Neville panted as he collapsed next to her. "Can you believe how crazy everyone's acting over this Tournament thing?"  
  
"No," Ginny sighed. "But Neville, where's--" Catching sight of Hermione, who had just bumped one of Krum's admirers with her elbow, not entirely by accident, she broke off. Stepping on the foot of another admirer, and unbalancing a third in a close encounter with her overladden backpack, Hermione finally reached the table a few seconds later.  
  
Ginny stared at her closely, nagged by the sudden, unsettling feeling there was something she ought to be noticing…  
  
"Hermione!" Neville said as if the sight of her were a revelation, making Ginny feel slightly less self-conscious about her own strange reaction and slightly more uncomfortable. "You're okay!"  
  
"Of course she's okay," Ginny said, looking between them. "Why wouldn't she be okay? Why wouldn't you be okay?"  
  
"You mean you didn't hear--"  
  
"It's nothing," Hermione said, throwing Neville a warning look. "I…had a little accident." The look on her face as she thought of it didn't seem like nothing, though.  
  
"It wasn't an accident," Neville contradicted hotly. "But Malfoy didn't actually mean to curse her," he added hastily as Hermione scowled at him. "He was aiming for Harry."  
  
"If he was aiming for Harry," Ginny demanded, "how in Merlin's name did he hit Hermione?"  
  
"Because of Harry," Neville said as if not only made sense, but was, in fact, completely obvious.  
  
"Harry got Malfoy to curse you?" Madam Pince stared in their direction, lowering the temperature by several degrees, but aside from pulling her robes around her a little more tightly, Ginny paid no attention.  
  
"Don't be ridiculous," Hermione hissed back, eyeing Madam Pince warily. "Harry wouldn't do such a thing. He was defending me--"  
  
"Malfoy called her a Mudblood," Neville elaborated at the same time Ginny said, "By getting you cursed?"  
  
Madam Pince cleared her throat threateningly.  
  
"Right," sighed Hermione. "Anyway, they cursed each other at the same time, and the curses bounced--"  
  
"So you got hit with Malfoy's?" Ginny finished, nodding comprehension.  
  
"Her teeth were huge," Neville confided. Hermione cuffed him on the arm, drawing a look of confusion, and glanced at the students behind them. "Neville!"  
  
"Oh. Right." Neville coughed. "Sorry."  
  
"That's what's different," Ginny shouted, drawing a much louder and more threatening cough from Madam Pince. "Your teeth. They're smaller," she concluded much more quietly.  
  
"Well…don't tell anyone…but…I know Mum and Dad didn't want me to use magic until they'd tried muggle denistry, but as Madam Pince had to use magic on them to reverse the curse anyway, there was no reason not to just let her carry on a bit."  
  
"Logic worthy of Gred and Forge," Ginny remonstrated, ruining the effect by snickering.  
  
Hermione beamed happily. "So, where were we?"  
  
They studied diligently enough until just before they went down to dinner when Neville finally couldn't contain one last comment any longer. "Oh, Ginny," he whispered as she helped Hermione pull him out of the trick step on the stairs, "if only you could have seen Crabbe's face…all covered in fungus."  
  
Ginny rather wished she had seen it, too, but she was somewhat consoled for the loss as she finished the last of her dinner.  
  
Dear Ginny,  
Professor Lupin's letter began in handwriting that looked much too hurried to be his.  
  
I think you're right—both about Harry and You-Know-Who, and so does Dumbledore. He's keeping an eye on things, as I sure you knew. If you have the any thoughts or questions—no matter how far-fetched—you are to go to him. I will never be able to forget just how right you were about my dear friend, and neither will he. In the meantime, keep your eyes open, and keep at least one of them on your friend Harry (even if he doesn't appreciate it) and try not to worry too much. Whatever You-Know-Who is planning will reveal itself in time. I hope you have time to practice your Occlumency. I myself have been very busy, though I'm afraid with what will have to wait until I am able to see you again.  
  
Yours Affectionately, R  
  
Comforted, if not entirely reassured, Ginny tucked the letter under her pillow and drifted off to sleep, accompanied by thoughts of being looked at by Harry Potter. 


	34. Acting in the Weasley Tradition

isclaimer--If you like it, assume I don't own it. The Potterverse belongs to JKR, Steve Klowes, Scholastic and WB. Fanon belongs to the multitude...I'm simply paying homage. Most of this scene is from GoF by JK Rowling. No copyright infringement is intended, and no money is being made.  
  
Author's Notes-- Progress has been a lot slower in this work, but I hope you'll all stick with me anyway. As you all know, I may not own it, but I work hard, and I love it, so if you read it and enjoy it, please review it! Please don't print or post this elsewhere without my knowledge.  
  
I'm not the weakest link--Thanks.  
  
J.Rhaye--Looking forward to your reviews! :-)  
  
Raiining--Thanks! I was excited, too! Yes, Lupin's "dear friend" is Sirius, and the note is refering to a conversation Ginny and Lupin had in SOA, but I don't think you have to remember too much specific detail about it to understand things in SWR, though I certainly won't complain if you want to read my stories more than once! I liked that little reference to Harry, too. ;-)  
  
EEDOE--I certainly hope Snape couldn't get away with that in muggle schools. Bleh. Neville is just so huggable, isn't he? Gred and Forge always make my day better, too! -hugs-  
  
Bill--Pretty cool how Luna can give stuff away and no one notices, huh? --grins-- It is surprising Snape doesn't end up in the hospital wing more...or that parents don't complain. Ginny is quick to notice the change, but she did have a BIT of help from Neville. -winks- I hope I can complete the arc too--this story is already so long, and it's not even Christmas! --grins-

* * *

Forced inaction put Ginny in the mood for revenge. Whatever Tom might be plotting was beyond her reach and out of her control, but she could teach Malfoy a lesson, and one he richly deserved. She just didn't know how, exactly. So she thought about it…doodling ideas in the margins of her notes—and then in the notes themselves—a habit that resulted in her answering Professor Binns' question on the incident that started the centar incident of 1273 as "put bubotuber puss in Malfoy's pocket," much to her classmate's amusement and her own mortification. Luckily, Professor Binns didn't seem to catch the slip, let alone its significance. "No, no, I'm afraid that's not it, Miss Wesley. You see, the Centaur Incident--this was the first of five--occurred when Zion the Brave ate two falafel intended for Warlock Tetchy--"  
  
It didn't stop there. She made a similar mistake again during her study session with Hermione and Neville that afternoon, and cringed even before she'd finished saying the words, anticipating Hermione's explosion and Madam Pince's retaliatory hexes. "Really, Ginny," Hermione snapped, surprisingly mild, even absent-minded, "do try to pay attention. I know it's difficult with these ridiculous girls chattering away like a pixie invasion, but just because they've mistaken the library for a social club is no excuse--"  
  
Ginny shared a look of commiseration with Neville, united in confusion even if he had been confused by her abstraction as well as Hermione's outburst, and they both followed Hermione's glare to the clump of girls a few feet from their table. New girls were appearing in spurts of giggling and expressive gestures. "That is unusual," Ginny observed thoughtfully. "Why hasn't Madam Pince run them off?"  
  
Hermione pointed violently. Madam Pince sat behind her desk, her head angled close to Professor Sinistra's as they discussed Viktor Krum. Ginny coughed hastily. "Do you think he'd give me his autograph?" Neville asked almost wistfully, offering a much-needed distraction.  
  
"Sure, Neville," Ginny said immediately. "Why don't you go and ask?"  
  
"I suppose I can't blame him for preparing for the Tournament," Hermione said in a tone that plainly said she'd like to try. "It's very sensible of him, after all—I wish Harry would take after him a bit—only I'll never get any work done with everyone falling all over him just because he can do the Wonky Faint--"  
  
"He doesn't seem to enjoy it," Ginny said, coughing through another fit of wild laughter at Hermione's less-than-accurate use of Quidditch terminology. Krum was scowling as though he were being attacked on all sides by something harmless but infinitely annoying…something like, well, pixies. She thought he kept looking in their direction, but probably he was simply looking for an avenue of escape and she felt as he were looking at them because she was so conscious of discussing someone that nearby. And if his face had another expression, Ginny didn't know about it, so even he was looking at them, his scowl definitely wasn't softening when he did.  
  
Neville returned, grinning widely, triumphantly clutching his parchment, torn into three sections. Ginny started to ask what he intended to do with more than one autograph, but Neville answered before she could. "He gave me autographs you, too," he said happily. "He insisted—he even asked me your names and made me point out who was who and tell him about you—he seemed really interested…I think he enjoyed talking to me, but--"  
  
He glanced back over his shoulder. The girls were pushing one another out of the way, waving quills, parchment, lipsticks, backpacks and handkerchiefs in their rush to get Krum's attention. Ginny snickered. "You started a trend!"  
  
"Honestly," Hermione huffed, folding her arms.  
  
Where's Madam Pince when you need her?" Ginny teased, a wry smile dancing around her mouth as she watched the girls swoop down on Krum like a cloud of hovering vultures—it was almost enough to make you feel sorry for him, if only he wasn't so stormy…but when she caught a flickering glimpse of him as two girls bumped into each other, he didn't look stormy at all, in spite of the provocation. He was sitting patiently, even attempting to offer a slight, mechanical smile, and looking directly at Hermione with a thoughtful look in his eye.  
  
Vaguely dissatisfied with the idea that someone besides Ron would be interested in Hermione, with the fact she wasn't happier with Hermione, with her own half-acknowledged wish Luna had seen Harry looking at her that way even though he wouldn't, even though he didn't…Ginny stalked outside to the Quidditch Pitch at the end of their study session, leaving Neville and Hermione behind her to speculate on why she didn't accompany them to the Common Room as usual.  
  
Ginny missed Quidditch, but she had to admit its absence had compensations…like the fact that no practice meant she could take a broom from the shed and fly more or less whenever she wanted. Flying always helped her think, and by the time she landed, she had come up with the perfect way to get revenge on Draco Malfoy.  
  
The next morning, she woke up early—well, earlier than usual—stole a pair of socks out of Ron's trunk just because she felt like it, and went down to breakfast whistling. It was a good thing she did, because, somehow, as everyone was filing out of the Great Hall to go to classes, Malfoy's green and silver necktie turned into a green-eyed silver-white ferret that managed to scratch up his chin and bite him twice before he finally got it untied and dropped it to the floor…where it landed as a harmless necktie. Ginny was nearly crushed against the wall by students trying to see, and ended with a couple large scrapes of her own on the back of her left hand and the front of her right, but Colin and Tempest were amazed and impressed to find this didn't affect her good mood in the least. 


	35. Skeeter Strike

Disclaimer--If you like it, assume I don't own it. The Potterverse belongs to JKR, Steve Klowes, Scholastic and WB. Fanon belongs to the multitude...I'm simply paying homage. Most of this scene is from GoF by JK Rowling. No copyright infringement is intended, and no money is being made.

Author's Notes-- Progress has been a lot slower in this work, but I hope you'll all stick with me anyway. As you all know, I may not own it, but I work hard, and I love it, so if you read it and enjoy it, please review it! Please don't print or post this elsewhere without my knowledge.

Congratulations, all!! Book 6 is on the way!! Yay!!!

Raiining—You're welcome...I just wish I could update as frequently as I used to. I really miss this story and our discussions! But I'm still hanging in there, and I hope you guys will, too. I love all Ginny's pranks, but that one did seem particularly appropriate. ;-) I'm glad you liked the part about Krum...I hope it does help develop more of a background to his date with Hermione than we got in the book. I'm looking forward to more Neville, too! And thanks for going back to read my other stories...I hope you enjoyed them!

JamieBell—I think I remember that description, too, but I don't know where I saw it. I love the idea of Madam Pince as a slavering fangirl, so I'm glad you did too! :-) Sorry this wasn't a very quick update...hope you get to read it anyway!

HairyHen-- Luna is a very interesting character, isn't she? I agree, Malfoy is a ferret for life. I'm excited about the Yule and half-afraid of it, too...I wish I knew what was going to happen!

EEDOE—I love the family resemblance. ;-) I would love to see Ron discuss Quidditch with Hermione too...perhaps one of us will have to include that in a story. I agree...I sympathasize with Ginny, but I think Hermione's date with Krum is necessary to kick-start Ron...and Hermione probably knows it. I agree...keep stealing socks, Ginny! hugs

Bill—I love the bit about the falafel. Maybe I'll have to research that incident. ;-) You have a lot of good points about Krum...I wish JK had explained a bit more about that relationship in OotP, but you can't have everything. True...Ginny and Harry do seem to balance out. :-) I DEFINITELY do INTEND to finish this story...it's just been really slow going. Sigh. Still, keep your fingers crossed for Ginny and me! hugs

* * *

Ginny was playing chess with Ron in the Gryffindor Common Room when Errol arrived, plummeting into Ron's head like a fluffy comet, and bouncing into his lap. "Ouch! What the blo-but I haven't done anything!" Ron shouted, staring plainatively at Ginny, and clutching the black pawn in his hand a bit hard in his distraction. It swiped him with its sword, drawing blood. 

"Maybe it isn't about something you've done?" Ginny suggested blandly.

"Ginny!" Ron groaned, "it's from Mum."

"Well," Ginny said after a few minutes thoughtful hesitation, "you might as well open it then."

Ron gave her a look that clearly suggested he thought he deserved better advice, but he knew as well as she did an angry letter from Mum wasn't likely to get any better with age. He untied the envelope from Errol's leg, ruffling his fingers through the owl's feathers in an absent caress, and produced a short note that hardly explained the size of the envelope.

Ginny waited curiously, but Ron read the note in silence, turning red then white, his mouth thinning into a tight angry line she'd rarely seen, and tossed the note, and too-big envelope onto the chessboard. Shouts of "Hey!", "What do you think you're doing!", and "I say, how rude!" issued from the pieces as they scattered. Ginny nearly followed Ron, who was already storming up the staircase to the boys' dorm, then sighed and bent to gather up the pieces. She'd been quite enjoying their game and wished they could have finished even if she and Ron both knew he would have beaten her anyway.

"Sorry about that," she said as she laid the pieces in their case. "I don't know what's gotten into him." They huffed crossly, but seemed somewhat mollified as she lowered the lid over them. She knew they would forgive Ron—they liked playing with him. Glancing around to see if anyone was watching, even though she knew the Gryffindors had gone back to their separate pursuits before Ron's footsteps had faded, being well used to bursts of Weasley temper and even frequent spats between other students, Ginny retrieved the ill-used note and unscathed envelope.

She smoothed the crumpled parchment across her lap.

_Dear Ron,_

read Mum's large galloping sort of handwriting in a tone that seemed more than unusually anxious, though Ginny couldn't have said what had given her that impression.

_I thought you should see this article about Harry. I know you're not very happy with him right now, and boys will have their little tiffs, but do try to have some sympathy. He's had a rough time of it, after all. _

_Love, _

_Mum_

Frowning, though she couldn't exactly have said why, Ginny reached into the envelope and pulled out a slick, glossy, slightly-used looking copy of _The Daily Prophet. _**Harry Potter, Hogwarts Hero!!!** read the largest title on the front, written in rather lurid letters. Under it, in letters only slightly less distasteful, was Rita Skeeter's byline. Ginny groaned. Ron may not have been feeling sympathetic, but—remembering Bill's experience with Rita Skeeter's idea of interviewing—Ginny was. She was strongly tempted to throw the magazine on the fire without opening it; reading that article felt almost offensive, an invasion, even a desecration, of the privacy Harry always seemed to maintain, even with Ron and Hermione.

Crookshanks bumped against her leg, issuing a purr, and Ginny felt slightly better. "You understand my curiosity at least." She bent down to scratch behind his ears confiding, "I simply don't think I can resist—I'd never sleep soundly again, wondering what I'd missed. Anyway, it can't be _very _private, or he wouldn't have told it to Rita Skeeter, right?" Crookshanks bumped her again, and Ginny was more than willing to consider his continuing purr as a sign of agreement.

She opened the _Daily Prophet _and began to read.

"That explains how Skeeter convinced him to talk to her," she muttered within the first two pages. "She didn't—Harry didn't say this—he wouldn't."

In spite of her conviction on that point, however, Ginny couldn't quite rid herself of a vague stinging intuition that some of the feelings the article described were true, even if Harry hadn't described them—or even admitted they existed. Trying to shake herself free of the sudden mood of longing empathy that clung to her like a spider's sticky web, she tossed the magazine into the fire with a hasty sniff—only realizing as it began to flame and darken she'd wanted Harry's photograph to keep. She also wished...just the slightest bit...Ron had at least looked at that article before he'd discarded it. It might have made him think.


	36. The Quill Thing

Disclaimer--If you like it, assume I don't own it. The Potterverse belongs to JKR, Steve Klowes, Scholastic and WB. Fanon belongs to the multitude...I'm simply paying homage. Most of this scene is from GoF by JK Rowling. No copyright infringement is intended, and no money is being made.

Author's Notes-- Progress has been a lot slower in this work, but I hope you'll all stick with me anyway. As you all know, I may not own it, but I work hard, and I love it, so if you read it and enjoy it, please review it! Please don't print or post this elsewhere without my knowledge.

Congratulations, all!! Book 6 is on the way!! Yay!!!

Raiining—I know what you mean, but hang in there if you can…completing a story is worth it! You assume correctly. Poor Harry. And I liked that line too. ;-)

JamieBell—You're right…Ron can definitely be a handful! But I think Ginny enjoys "mothering" him. I like the insight, too. J

J. Rhaye—YAY!!! Welcome back!!! hugs I thought I'd bored you to death. ;-) Thanks for the praise. I agree…I love our girl's tendency to be a step ahead. hugs

EEDOE—I hope you enjoy this! hugs

Bill—Hope you're still enjoying the story! hugs

* * *

Ron may not have read the article, but in the days that followed, he certainly heard enough about it. Someone—Ginny only wished she knew who—had caught wind of the article and proceeded to hand it around the school without discretion. In no time at all, Draco Malfoy had organized quite a cabal of hecklers on Harry's behalf.

The Hufflepuffs, still stinging over Harry's theft of Cedric's spotlight (accidental as only Hermione, Neville, and Ginny believed it to be) were suddenly all-too-willing to join forces with the Slytherins in a way their generous hearts would normally condemn, and the Ravenclaws couldn't really help enjoying the excuse for sharpening their wit with such an appreciative and involved audience. The halls were so full of students waving handkerchiefs mockingly; Hogwarts seemed like a museum tableau of decorations for a Muggle Halloween. As if that were painful enough for everyone involved, the handkerchiefs were accompanied by a constant cooing sympathy that often involved reassurances Harry needn't miss his parents much longer anyway as he was sure to die and join them in attempting the First Task.

The noise—and more, the malicious aura that seemed to infiltrate the air like cloying perfume—gave Ginny a length of tight knots along the back of her neck and a constant, throbbing headache that made her stomach churn. Hermione was calm and silent, but with large flashing hazel eyes, and Neville went everywhere with a nervous scowl and shaking hands that matched the tremor in his voice. She could only imagine the effect it must have on Harry. But, as far as Ginny could tell, Ron hardly seemed to notice—unless he gave off the faint but distinct air of satisfaction Ginny sometimes thought she imagined. If so, maybe his anger would soon be assuaged when he felt Harry had been appropriately punished.

"Which shouldn't be much longer by the looks of things," she said to herself for what had to be the twenty-fifth time that day as she watched Harry struggle down the hall, looking particularly strained and cross. She moved forward to say something to him, she didn't know quite what, anything that might cheer him up a bit and take that horrible lost look off his face. It was at that moment Harry dropped his quill—the perfect opening to conversation. She bent forward to retrieve it, only to have her vision obscured by a swirl of delicate black robes and the sweep of equally black silken hair.

"Hey, Harry!" the girl called in a voice that seemed oddly, and not altogether pleasantly, familiar.

"Yeah, that's right!" Harry all but snarled in response, wheeling sharply about on his heels, he stopped suddenly as he caught sight of who'd addressed him. If Ginny hadn't already known the suggestion of romance between Hermione and Harry in the _Daily Prophet_ was rubbish, she would have known then. Ginny, all-but-resigned to loosing her chance to talk to him, winced as she caught sight of his expression. "Cho?"

That explained why she'd felt a vague impression of dislike when she looked at the girl—Ginny had met Cho Chang on the Hogwarts Express, and she hadn't been particularly impressed with her giggly, gushy, girly demeanor. "Unlike some people I could name," she added sharply under her breath. She crossed her arms defensively and leaned back against the wall for support.

"Oh, right, sorry," Harry muttered, looking about as strong as Ginny felt. As Cho handed him his quill, her smooth, slender, dancing fingers brushing Harry's strong, square ones; Ginny thrust her own short, ink-stained fingers and ragged nails deeper out of sight within the folds of her robes under arms in a surge of self-consciousness. She could feel an embarrassed flush nearly identical to Harry's staining her cheeks as she ducked hurriedly into Professor Flitwick's classroom.

* * *

In spite of her feelings toward Harry, it was hard to feel unsettled for long with life more and more brightly illuminated by the approach of her first Hogsmeade weekend.

"I wanted to show you the sights, me, and Harry, and Ron," Hermione complained that night, looking uncharacteristically dejected. "But it doesn't look as if they're going to be any fun at moment."

"So we'll have fun, just the two of us," Ginny assured her stoutly, carefully marking a correction on her Ancient Runes translation. "We can go places the guys wouldn't enjoy anyway. Like....uh..." she paused, at a loss for a place she and Hermione might want to visit that wouldn't interest Ron and Harry.

"That sounds like fun."

"I hear a 'but' in there somewhere," Ginny observed with a sigh.

Hermione smiled ruefully, the tight edges of the smile making it look almost pained. "If I tell you, you'll change your mind about going with me."

"Harry is going with you to Hogsmeade."

"Well, he doesn't really have anyone else right now, and--"

"I wouldn't want Harry to be alone," Ginny agreed immediately, and with only the faintest twinge of jealousy. Less than she felt, in fact, seeing Ron spending so much time with the twins and Lee.

"Oh, do come," Hermione begged. "You won't have to seem him or anything—he insists on staying under that ridiculous Invisibility Cloak the en--" She stopped with a horrified look on her face.

"Oh, Hermione, don't look so worried. Snape was muttering about that Cloak every day for weeks the end of last school year." Ginny rubbed the back of her neck. "But if Harry insists on staying under it, he obviously doesn't want a bunch of strangers gawking about him and--" And she couldn't possibly face him, let alone make comfortable conversation, while she was still remembering that look on his face, wishing...

"You--"

"Should probably just go the first time with my classmates. You and I can go on the next visit together."

"Arrgh. Weasleys! _Why_ must you all be so bloody pigheaded?"

Ginny just laughed.

After a second of mad glowering in her direction, Hermione suddenly broke down and began to laugh, too, throwing her arms about her.


	37. Hogsmeade

Disclaimer--If you like it, assume I don't own it. The Potterverse belongs to JKR, Steve Klowes, Scholastic and WB. Fanon belongs to the multitude...I'm simply paying homage. Most of this scene is from GoF by JK Rowling. No copyright infringement is intended, and no money is being made.

Author's Notes—According to J.K. Rowling, Blaise Zabini is a boy. That's fine with me, but I've been thinking of her as a girl since I wrote MoP, and even if I wanted to switch, I'm not sure I could.

This is a short chapter, but it's a chapter. You can't have everything. ;-)

Progress has been a lot slower in this work, but I hope you'll all stick with me anyway. As you all know, I may not own it, but I work hard, and I love it, so if you read it and enjoy it, please review it! Please don't print or post this elsewhere without my knowledge.

Congratulations, all!! Book 6 is on the way!! Yay!!!

* * *

So it was that Ginny met Luna and Bion in the Great Hall that Saturday morning. She hadn't seen them outside of class in what felt like a dog's age, and they were in considerably better spirits than Ron (who seemed cross and defensive) and Hermione (who looked tense and preoccupied).

They started out with the Shrieking Shack. Ginny, who knew its history rather better than Bion and Luna could have imagined, thought it really _was _the most haunted house in Britain; haunted by Professor Lupin's sorrows and fears and self-remonstration. But Bion, quickly bored by ghosts who had fallen strangely silent before he'd even been born, pulled her and Luna down the street to Honeyduke's in quick order. Ginny wasn't sorry to be dragged away from her thoughts about everything she'd learned the year before and back into childhood, while Luna loved anything and everything new and unusual, so neither felt the slightest provocation to complain.

They took their time and explored every nook and sweet-scented corner of Honeyduke's as thoroughly as they could, although the clerk grabbed Bion when he tried to investigate the open cellar door. They finished with the purchase of each of their favorite sweets—peppermint frogs for Bion (Ginny could never understand how people found all that hopping in their stomachs pleasant), Fizzing Whizzbees for Luna (who loved the sensation of floating so much she made them each eat one so they walked on air to the next shoppe), and the classic simplicity of Sugar Quills for Ginny, all Bion's treat.

Happily eating an amount of sugar that would have scandalized Mum, they wandered between shoppes, and drunk in the sights of the street, crowded with Hogwarts students in a variety of bright weekend clothes. "Dad says stone sprites live there," Luna announced, pointing out a cave smudging the horizon.

"We'll have to explore it next time and see," Ginny said. She and Luna rolled their eyes and grinned at Bion's long-suffering groan of protest.

They did some idle Christmas shopping -- Ginny bought a little package of mentholated cat nip for Crookshanks at an Herbal Shoppe that was not much more than a little wooden cart in the street.

"What," Bion said doubtfully, "is that?"

Ginny glanced up in the direction he was staring. "Uh. Madam Puddifoot's?"

"Doesn't it look like a rather over-decorated tea cozy?" Luna asked distantly.

"Maybe that's part of its charm?" Ginny suggested doubtfully. "It seems to be successful, and there _must_ be a reason."

"I suppose I'll find it charming enough if it serves a decent tea," Bion said stoutly, but he didn't look convinced.

"Oh, tea!" Luna agreed fervently.

"Tea would be nice," Ginny agreed skeptically. She didn't remember any of her brothers, or even her Mum, ever mentioning this place. They always talked about drinking Butterbeer at the Hog's Head. But Bion and Luna were already shrugging through the door.

"Ginny!" someone called before she could even squeeze all the way into the very small shoppe behind Luna. Tempest waved from a frothily-clothed table littered with empty plates. Across from her was a tall, frosty blonde with violet eyes. "This is my sister, Blaise," she explained. "Blaise, this is my friend Ginny Weasley, that I've told you about."

"Nice to meet you, Ginny," Blaise said with what seemed like quite a warm, genuine smile coming from a Slytherin. She wasn't wearing a POTTER STINKS badge either, which warmed Ginny's heart quite a bit. "I'm sorry," she added to Bion and Luna, "I'm afraid I didn't catch your names?"

"Bion Alderly," Bion offered looking rather stunned, though whether it was Blaise's courtesy or her looks, Ginny was amused to find she couldn't say. "And that's Luna Lovegood. We're from Ravenclaw."

"Ah. I know who to ask with help in my studies then," Blaise said with an easy grace that kept the words from sounding the way they would have if Draco Malfoy had spoken them. Ginny and Bion blinked.

"Only if they're interesting," Luna said calmly. "I can't abide being bored."

"Neither can I," Blaise agreed with a smile. "Would you like to join us and have some tea?"

"Oh, yes, _please_," said Luna. Bion had already begun pulling up two more chairs in their lace strait-jackets.

Tea was quite pleasant, though the tea itself was actually a bit heavy and brackish and the shoppe was humid and smelled of an overabundance of potpourri. They made the return to Hogwarts together and played a rousing game of Quidditch on the cheap school brooms available to students before dinner; the perfect end to the perfect day.


	38. The First Task Begins

Disclaimer-If you like it, assume I don't own it. The Potterverse belongs to JKR, Steve Klowes, Scholastic and WB. Fanon belongs to the multitude...I'm simply paying homage. Most of this scene is from GoF by JK Rowling. No copyright infringement is intended, and no money is being made.

Author's Notes—Progress has been a lot slower in this work, but I hope you'll all stick with me anyway. As you all know, I may not own it, but I work hard, and I love it, so if you read it and enjoy it, please review it! Please don't print or post this elsewhere without my knowledge.

Congratulations, all! Book 6 is on the way! Yay!

Rachel Weasley—I hope the story lives up to your expectations!

GiGiFanfic—I'm glad you think the series is picking up. I do, too. It takes a while to build momentum and a feel for the character, but I'm doing my best. I'm glad you enjoyed SoA—I enjoyed writing it—and I hope you keep reading.

Realfanficts—I hate the lag between updates, too. Unfortunately, it takes a while to develop a strong scene…and that's what I hope to produce!

Raiining—Thanks. I loved that description, too. It just tickled my funnybone. I keep hoping for a nice Slytherin, too. I have to admit that the original opus for Blaise as "the nice Slytherin" isn't mine...but hopefully the originator doesn't mind.

Gee-Unit—Thanks! J I hope the story continues to entertain you.

JamieBell—Looking forward to your comments, too. J

J. Rhaye—I agree with you a hundred percent about Bion…he's the kind of guy that really deserves a great girlfriend (I adore him)…and I wouldn't object if Jk borrowed him. ;-) I'm glad you love him, too! hugs (And thanks for always noticing my details…that makes it so much more fun to include them. J ) hugs

EEDOE—I hope Hermione and Ginny do come across as sisters…that's sort of my image of their relationship, too. J Thanks for all your help…hope you like it! hugs

Bill—Hope I haven't bored you already! Looking forward to your comments! hugs

* * *

For once, Ginny didn't have any trouble waking up early.

Instead, she had trouble falling asleep, tossing and turning uncomfortably in a fog of dread. It was a relief to throw back the blankets and free herself in the morning.

She sipped at her coffee. Mum's voice in her head listed all the reasons she ought to be drinking pumpkin juice instead, but she really needed the brace of caffeine. She didn't know what the First Task was, but it had Harry and Hermione both spooked, and that was enough to worry her.

Hermione looked even worse than Ginny felt. She had pale purple shadows circling her usually brilliant hazel eyes, her mouth was drawn and shaking, and her shoulders were so stiff and tense, she looked as if she were still petrified.

Ginny shivered at the unwelcome associations her memory supplied, and tried to smile weak encouragement in Hermione's direction. Ron, too, kept shooting concerned glances at Hermione when he thought she wasn't looking. Other than that, he seemed remarkably stoic, but when he began to cut his sausage, the knife rattled against the plate as his hands began to shake.

Harry looked pale enough to be kin to Nearly Headless Nick. Ginny desperately wanted to say something to relieve the pinched look about his eyes, but the lump in her throat would have kept the words wedged in place even if she hadn't been afraid anything she said would sound like a pathetic plea for him to notice her. Her fingers itched to reach out and touch his so strongly she thought he must have felt as if she'd done it, which only added self-consciousness and a half-sick fear he wasn't only unaware of the connection she felt between them, but would actually look at her as if she were crazy in a way she couldn't bear to her hesitation.

None of them looked much better by lunch, but Lee, the twins, and the other Gryffindors seemed completely unaffected. Ginny couldn't help feeling their enthusiasm for the First Task an insult, even though she knew they meant well. They didn't seem to notice her reaction, or the looks that passed between her, Hermione, and even Ron as they began to analyze the Champions' odds. Luckily, Harry didn't have to listen to this, as Professor McGonagall had already arrived to escort him to the Task.

The analysis continued all through lunch and up the stairs where they claimed their gloves, scarves, and hats. The crowd swept Ginny along to the stands, and she was hardly aware of how she had ended up there, tucked neatly between Hermione and Lee. She shivered in spite of her heavy winter robes, her thick gold Mum-knitted sweater, her red-and-gold striped Gryffindor scarf, in spite of the taller spectators blocking the winds and the comforting warmth of Hermione and Lee's presence, for what seemed like hours until Ludo Bagman appeared in the box usually reserved for Lee's commentaries.

"Ladies and Gentlemen, Witches, Warlocks, Wizards, and Hags," Bagman boomed, making Ginny and Hermione both jump, "Let the First Task begin!"

"He didn't tell us what it was," Ron complained crossly, but Ginny was staring down at the Quidditch Pitch.

"What's that gathered in the corner? It looks like . . .eggs. Hermione - are those - they couldn't be -_dragon's _eggs?"

Hermione nodded, clutching at Ron's arm. He let her take it, and put his other hand over hers without really noticing, his own face suddenly shadowed. "But wouldn't that be kind of-"

"And now, our first competitor, Cedric Diggory of Hogwarts, will make his attempt to steal the Golden Egg from a Swedish Short-Snout Dragon!"

On the other side of Lee, Fred whistled softly under his breath, and George clicked his tongue against his teeth the way he sometimes did when he was thinking.

Cedric stood still so long; time seemed to stand still with him. The dragon, pacing before him, blinked slowly, its eyes glowing like coals about to set fire to Cedric. Ginny swallowed hard, her entire body was so tense she was shaking, but if Lee and Hermione noticed, they probably thought she was shivering.

The dragon stalked forward, the stands shaking beneath the impact of its steps, and Cedric lunged to the side, whipping his wand forward.

"Ooh," shouted Bagman, "narrow miss there!"

Ginny's head spun with the sound of his voice, so that when she first saw the dog, she thought she must be hallucinating. "I…a dog…what's…how…"

"It was a rock," said Hermione, her voice shrill. "Cedric transfigured it!"

"Not sure what he thinks it's going to do for him, though," Ron muttered Ginny's thoughts.

But seconds later, the dragon answered the question: stopping, she tilted her head as if listening then turned oh-so-slowly toward the sound of the barking dog. Cedric didn't hesitate, leaping forward toward the nest.

"He's taking risks, this one!" Bagman shouted.

Whether the sound of his voice provoked it, or the dragon understood some measure of what he'd said, she gave a bellow of rage and whipped back around toward Cedric, snapping her powerful jaws in a way that made Ginny cringe.

"_Clever_ move — pity it didn't work!"

Cedric dove for cover, followed by the dragon in a way that brought the Chamber of Secrets, the movements of the basilisk, and Harry's desperate struggle to outrun it back so vividly Ginny could feel the cold stones pressing against her skin, Harry's arms around her…she felt sick. She would have buried her face in Lee's shoulder, but the scene unfolding on the pitch held her attention like a charmer hypnotizing a snake, and she couldn't move.

Cedric got to his feet a little too quickly. The dragon had just let loose a raging breath of fire. Cedric ducked as quickly as he could. The dog yapped excitedly, luckily drawing the dragon's attention again. Cedric ran back toward the cache of eggs, fingers closing around the golden egg just as the dragon roared toward him. The trainers restrained it in less time than Ginny would have believed possible. Everything seemed like a blur of shouting people, flashing egg, and choleric dragon, but she thought she saw Charlie on the field…

"Very good indeed," Bagman announced in a way that made Ginny want to hit him. He needn't sound so smug, it wasn't as if he'd had anything to do with it. "And now the marks from the judges!"

Ginny scarcely paid attention to the cards the judges held up at all, having no idea what they added up to at the end. She was too busy concentrating on the next participant, and the next, and somewhere in there . . . Harry . . . in danger . . . fighting a dragon . . . again. . . .


	39. The Task Ongoing

Disclaimer-If you like it, assume I don't own it. The Potterverse belongs to JKR, Steve Klowes, Scholastic and WB. Fanon belongs to the multitude...I'm simply paying homage. Most of this scene is from GoF by JK Rowling. No copyright infringement is intended, and no money is being made.

Author's Notes—Progress has been a lot slower in this work, but I hope you'll all stick with me anyway. As you all know, I may not own it, but I work hard, and I love it, so if you read it and enjoy it, please review it! Please don't print or post this elsewhere without my knowledge.

Congratulations, all! Book 6 is on the way! Yay!

Jamie Bell—Thanks for reviewing. It's nice to know you're still enjoying the story. J I'm really flattered you think I do a good job portraying Ginny's feelings. Good question about how Ginny knew what had happened to Harry. In my story MoP, Ginny has something similar to an out of body experience in the Chamber.

Raiining—Thank you for taking time to review! J I loved that moment when Ginny really wants to reach out to Harry, too. I'm glad I'm not the only one who's enjoying this fic!

EEDOE—Yeah, Ron is adorable…and I loved writing Ron and Hermione moments! I like the little quirky gestures, too. They add depth to a character. ;-) Thanks for all your help with this chapter! hugs

Bill—I hope the "great chapter" wasn't sarcastic! ;-) Sorry I left you hanging so long! hugs

* * *

"One down, three to go!" Bagman declared grandly as Cedric hobbled off the field to where his friends were waiting.

"They're taking him to that tent Madam Pomfrey has set up," Lee observed. "He'll be good as new in no time."

Ginny looked at him gratefully and tried to smile, but Lee's attention had already been absorbed by Fleur Delacour's appearance on the pitch.

The dragon "A Welsh Green," Fred muttered, well informed from years of living with Charlie paced behind Fleur, making her look even more fragile than usual. The Beaubaton's champion was so far away it was to decide if she really was shivering, or if it was merely Ginny's imagination. Fleur's chin was up, her shoulders squared. Ginny even thought her exquisitely shaped mouth was firmed into a straight line that commanded a trickle of respect from the most skeptical observer. Fleur spun around to face the dragon before Bagman had even finished giving the signal, and muttered something, pointing her wand at the dragon with a little flourish.

"What's she doing that for?" Ron demanded, disgusted by her lack of sense. "Dragons are impervious to most types of magic — evenI know_ that_!"

"Oh, I'm not sure that was wise," called Bagman.

"Whatever that spell was, it looks like an exception," Hermione said, her eyes round circles that matched her mouth. "It looks like it's working!"

The dragon was stumbling, blinking her large, lambent eyes as if sleepy, her mouth working in a wide yawn. But Ron found it hard to concentrate on the sight, amazing as it was. "You mean you don't recognize the spell? Hermione, are you feeling okay?"

In spite of the ongoing tension of the day, Ginny coughed on a laugh, only to hastily swallow another as Hermione blushed, casting her eyes to the side. "I . . . well . . . It's some sort of charm. . . ."

Before anyone could say anything else, the dragon swayed forward as if about to tumble to the ground, splitting with air with a surprising snore. Flames sizzled through the sound, racing after Fleur as she ran, clutching the egg.

"Careful now!" Bagman shouted, far too late.

The flames had already caught at the hem of Fleur's pale blue robes. Fleur hurriedly pointed her wand at the fire climbing the length of her plain skirt.

"She used a Water Charm," Hermione said, sounding relieved. Ron snorted. "You ought to know that. We learned it in class last week."

Ginny grinned, but she was too on edge to be really amused. Even Fred and George were strangely serious as Fleur stepped daintily over the line. The dragon's handlers caught her up— a process that seemed to take a long time, given the lack of struggle she gave them. They applauded her success sincerely, even Hermione, who wore a puckered expression her face. Ginny held her breath as she clapped, wondering if Harry would be next. She wished he would; maybe then she could enjoy the rest of the competition.

She wasn't surprised when Krum slouched out onto the field next and not Harry; it was her kind of luck. Krum watched the Chinese Fireball with a sort of slump-shouldered fatalism Ginny understood, more resigned than determined, more wary than afraid. He let her advance closer and closer.

Finally, Lee couldn't take the pressure. "Don't just stand there like a bump from a Beater's bat do something!" he shouted through cupped hands. Fred and George chuckled, but their laughter sounded a little strained.

"He's casting the Conjuctivitis Curse," said Ginny, startled by her own ability to recognize it. Professor Moody wasn't Remus Lupin. He didn't share Lupin's gift of relating to each student's needs, hopes, and fears; drawing them in through their interests and playing to their strengths, making lessons seem fun, but he _was_ teaching them something. . .unlike the vacuous and vacillating blond booby, Lockhart. He'd shown the third years—Ginny included—that very curse just before Halloween.

The Chinese Fireball threw her head back, bellowing in pain as the curse hit its mark. "Look at that," Ron whistled. "Perfect aim!"

"That's why he was waiting," Ginny reflected slowly. "He was trying to draw it away from the eggs!"

"He didn't wait long enough then," Fred concluded. "Look!"

"Playing chicken with a dragon is nothing to squawk about," muttered George under his breath.

Tossing her head violently, the Fireball swayed from side to side as it lurched backward in the vain effort to escape the curse. The popping crack of the first egg made everyone in the stands start, the crowd's groan of commiseration lost in the dragon's trumpeting keen of outraged distress. She jigged helplessly about, trying to see what she had done, trying to decide between escape and attack.

Krum seemed somewhat taken aback, but he set his bemusement aside to run toward the eggs, toward the angry Fireball, toward the gushing chaos, looking anything but lethargic or apathetic. He rolled under the dragon's thundering feet, sliding through the sticky flood. Hermione gasped, and Ginny noticed she hadn't let go of Ron's arm. But then, he hadn't taken his hand of hers so she could, either. Any other time, Ginny would have gloated. Krum seized the egg, narrowly avoiding yet another slipping step of the still-maddened Fireball, and bounded forward, dodging burst of fire more like little shrieks than an actual effort to attack him.

"Wow! He _is _very athletic, isn't he?" Hermione breathed, looking stunned. Ginny stared at her a bit blankly, reminded of Hermione's inexplicable admiration for the erstwhile Professor Lockhart . . . though at least this admiration did have some basis in reality.

"Well, obviously," retorted Ron, sounding quite pleased, "I mean he'd have to be to catch the Snitch at the World Cup!"

"Yet another amazing feat by Viktor Krum," Bagman announced, stating the obvious, again a bit late. "Impressive effort, Mr. Krum.Quite a show! Unfortunately, the real eggs weren't supposed to be damaged, so I'm afraid the judges will be deducting some points for that."

Ron groaned, and even Hermione looked disappointed, but Ginny could hardly even concentrate long enough to hear the words, let alone make sense of them. Harry's turn had finally come.


	40. Harry and the Horntail

Disclaimer-If you like it, assume I don't own it. The Potterverse belongs to JKR, Steve Klowes, Scholastic and WB. Fanon belongs to the multitude...I'm simply paying homage. Most of this scene is from GoF by JK Rowling. No copyright infringement is intended, and no money is being made.

Author's Notes—Progress has been a lot slower in this work, but I hope you'll all stick with me anyway. As you all know, I may not own it, but I work hard, and I love it, so if you read it and enjoy it, please review it! Please don't print or post this elsewhere without my knowledge.

Congratulations, all! Book 6 is on the way! Yay!

Met19—Big hearty welcome to a new reviewer! Yay:-) I can't wait for Book 5 (and 6) either...I'm really anxious to see how Ginny continues to grow and develop. In the meantime, hope you enjoy the new chapter, and review again. :-)

J.Rhaye—I missed you, girl! **--hugs-- **I really wanted to make the Task seem exciting...if this was a boring Tournament, it would be pretty hard to understand why it was such a big deal, so I'm glad you enjoyed it:-) And...here's hoping I can do justice to how much better seeing Harry always is...especially in Ginny's world! **--winks--**

EEDOE—I think I'm getting addicted to writing little moments between Ron and Hermione! We'll blame it on your excellent example. **--winks--** One of my FAVORITE things about the HP series is Fred and George's excellent comedic timing, so I'm really happy you think I captured a little bit of it—thanks:-) **--hugs--**

Bill—WOW! **--blushes--** What a nice thing to say. :-) I kind of miss my alliteration, too, now that you mention it. I wonder why I haven't been using it as much. Maybe Ginny's growing out of it? **--frowns thoughtfully--** I'll have to have a talk with her about that! I hope this chapter isn't too much of a disappointment! Thanks for the support! **--hugs--**

**

* * *

**

Harry walked out of the Champions' tent looking even smaller than Fleur, if not as ridiculously delicate. Ginny had never seen him so pale—a state only underlined by the inky black presence of the looming Horntail; she almost expected his robes to start fading. Ginny was the one who was shaking now, and far more violently than Fleur had. She knew Hermione and Ron probably didn't look much better, but she couldn't turn her head to look at them.

Ginny felt weirdly separate from the group in the stands; she could hear them roaring all around her, but as if from a great distance. The reassuring heat radiating from Lee and Hermione seemed to have gone missing; she knew she was still sitting between them in the stands, but her knees were as weak and rubbery as though she were standing beside Harry. She squeezed her eyes shut and tried to envision holding his hand as if it could offer them both some strength. Then, suddenly, she remembered vividly the feel of her hands wrapped around his, merging, over the hilt of a heavy silver sword, and she twitched so sharply it drew Ron's attention from the other side of Hermione. "Ginny, what—are you okay?" She might have responded, she was never really sure. . . .

Slowly, so very slowly, Harry raised his wand.

"Come on, Harry. You can do this . . . I know you can do this," Hermione was chanting under her breath like an incantation.

"C'mon, Harry--" Ginny heard Ron add his voice to Hermione's and knew Ron and Harry were friends again at last. . . Ginny wished she could have spared some part of her attention from the scene below long enough to register her relief at that. Even Fred, George, and Lee were wholly concentrated on the moment as Harry shouted an incantation of his own that was stolen by the wind.

Time seemed to stretch and bend around them in odd ways, so that it took forever for Harry's Firebolt to shoot over the horizon in an instant, neatly sweeping around the edge of the woods and dropping to hover in air beside him. Harry's hand reached for the broom almost before it had stopped, and he swung a leg over in a smooth motion; the sight would have made Ginny swoon if it hadn't also been watched by two huge, unblinking, sulfurous eyes. Those eyes burned her with hot memory, bringing bile to the back of her throat. Harry, however, seemed undaunted by both remembered basilisk and present Horntail. Ginny existed in a breath of admiration as refreshing as the air in her face during a stolen broom flight. Harry circled the pitch, coolly confident as ---

"He looks like he's just playing Quidditch," Lee said with an admiring whistle.

Harry dived in a swift motion very similar to the Wronski Feint they'd seen at the Quidditch Cup, drawing loud wolf calls of appreciation from the twins. The Horntail's massive black head wove close behind, breathing a burst of fire toward Harry. Ron groaned, Hermione gasped, and Ginny nearly bit through her lip in an effort not to scream, but Harry was already swerving neatly out of harm's way, ascending.

"Great Scott, can he fly!" yelled Bagman admiringly, "Are you watching this, Mr. Krum?"

Harry circled upward, making it easy to pretend he was only looking for the Snitch, just the Snitch . . . the Horntail's head followed his progress, looking like the cobras Ginny had seen in Egyptian snake charmers' baskets.

"If you're going to do something," Ginny moaned between gritted teeth, "hurry up and _do_ it while you still have the advantage."

Harry had apparently come to the same conclusion; he dropped from the sky before she'd even finished the sentence. So did the Horntail. Her fiery missile shot close but harmlessly overhead. Determined as any woman, she rallied quickly, swinging her long, heavy tail like a Beater's bat the size of a suspension bridge.

"Look out, Harry!" Ron shouted so loudly Fred, George, and several other people leaned away covering their heads with their hands.

The long tail slapped Harry across the shoulder resoundingly, the impact buffeting his entire broom. Ginny knotted her fingers so tightly her nails bit into her palms and her knuckles bruised the skin that covered them. Harry darted behind the Horntail, making the dragon contort her body in the effort to keep her huge, yellow eyes fixed on him and the threat he represented.

"Is he crazy?" Hermione demanded, her voice coiled tightly as the rope in the snake charmers' basket Ginny had been reminded of. "Does he _want_ her to attack him?"

And, with that, Ginny realized that he did. He was flying back and forth in front of the dragon, just as Ginny often pulled string to tease Crookshanks. The Horntail followed Harry, not just with her eyes, but with her whole head, the way Crookshanks followed Ginny's string. Any minute now, the Horntail would pounce—

"Yes, he does," said Ginny, in dawning comprehension, drawing blank looks from her companions.

But the dragon was already beginning to demonstrate, hovering a few inches off the ground, straining after Harry . . . then a few feet --- She roared angrily, frustrated that Harry was still out of her reach. Her tail thrashed just as Crookshanks' might. In a final desperate attempt to get what she wanted without leaving her eggs, the dragon snorted fire into the air. Harry dodged it neatly. He had obviously expected as much.

Exasperated beyond caution, the dragon gathered her huge black wings and vaulted into the air, throwing her winds wide so they cast a chilling shadow over the pitch. No sooner had she begun to leap than Harry dived again, sharper, faster, and more sure than Ginny had ever seen him.

He reached out and plucked up the golden egg as casually as if it had been the Snitch, making it look as though he'd done it all with great ease . . . and then he was flying, soaring swift and unimpeded, so achingly, beautifully free, Ginny wanted to weep.

Ron was already on his feet, pulling Hermione, who still clung to his arm, with him. Fred, George, and Lee weren't far behind; Lee lifting Ginny with him much as Ron had Hermione. Ginny leaned into his much-needed hug as people all around them continued to surge upward, all yelling at the tops of their lungs.

"Look at that!" Bagman boomed overhead, "Will you look at that? Our youngest champion was the quickest to get his egg! Well, this is going to shorten the odds on Mr. Potter!"

"We're going to congratulate Harry," Hermione shouted directly into Ginny's ear, the words still faint in the deafening noise of the crowd. "Coming?"

Ginny took a half step. She wanted to see Harry -- more than anything.

But -- if she saw him with the image of that sinuous black dragon twisting above him, trapping him in those sulfurous black eyes, she knew she wouldn't be able to hold herself back, wouldn't be able to restrain herself from collapsing into his arms and never letting go. . . . Worse, she was going to burst into tears. She sat down again and swallowed hard, nose and eyes suddenly stinging. Hermione sighed and might have tried to protest but Ron was already dragging her away.

It was just as well she hadn't gone, upon reflection. Ron would be the only sight Harry really wanted to see, and it probably wouldn't have endeared her to either of them — let alone herself — if she'd interfered with their reunion. Especially if a nervous breakdown was how she went about it.

Ginny was content with sitting near Lee and the twins, aware of their conversation but not really listening. She took deep breaths and repeated, 'It's over, Harry's fine,' over and over and over again under her breath until Hermione reappeared. It didn't take long; Hermione apparently came to the same conclusion regarding Ron and Harry's reunion as Ginny had.

"You should have seen them," Hermione told her between sniffles. "Acting as if nothing had happened! I'm—I'm just so—so _glad_ they're finally talking to each other again—But why—must—men—be—so—so..._stubborn_?" She slapped her handerkerchief against her leg for punctuation and flopped wearily to the bench beside Ginny. At which Ginny, tension temporarily dispelled, had to laugh.

After a bit, Ron and Harry appeared long enough to reclaim Hermione. Harry sported a long tear in his robes, but looked quite fit with Madam Pomfrey having worked her magic.

Before they were even out of sight, the twins began to grin—identical, evil grins that made Ginny grin, too. Her heart raced.

"Okay. George and I --" Fred began crisply.

"Will make a trip to Honeyduke's in Hogsmeade," finished George.

Ginny started to protest, but they each held up a hand — exactly in time — to stop her.

"That was quite a performance young Potter pulled off there," George reminded her.

"He's earned a butterbeer," Fred charmed her.

"No arguments here," Ginny said. "I just wanted to know _how_ you think you're going to --"

"Ah, ah, ah," said George.

"We love you, little sister," said Fred.

"Darling, innocent, little Gingersnaps," crooned George, stroking her hair.

"But if we told you _that_," Fred continued, shaking his head.

"We'd have to curse you," George sighed, shaking his.

"And we _really_ don't want to have to do that," they finished together.

"Well, in that case," Ginny snorted, "carry on. You were saying?"

"Lee will organize the troops, and you, Gingersnaps, are headed to the kitchens."

"You call _that_ a mission?" scoffed Ginny, who rather liked the kitchens, already on her way.


	41. Someone's in the Kitchen

Disclaimer-If you like it, assume I don't own it. The Potterverse belongs to JKR, Steve Klowes, Scholastic and WB. Fanon belongs to the multitude...I'm simply paying homage. Most of this scene is from GoF by JK Rowling. No copyright infringement is intended, and no money is being made.

Author's Notes—Progress has been a lot slower in this work, but I hope you'll all stick with me anyway. As you all know, I may not own it, but I work hard, and I love it, so if you read it and enjoy it, please review it! Please don't print or post this elsewhere without my knowledge.

Congratulations, all! Book 6 is on the way! Yay!

Good news to all of you...chapter 42 should be on its way shortly...say absolutely no later than the middle of May, no matter what...I hope I haven't said too much...grins and knocks wood

Rayny—Sorry for being MIA for so long...I really hadn't forgotten Ginny—or her great reviewers! Hopefully I'll be able to post a little more frequently over the summer...crosses fingers In the meantime, I hope the next chapter helps make up for the famine you've been forced to undergo! Look forward to hearing from you! **Winks**

EEDOE-- I think JK does show a few moments like that—where do you think I got the idea! **coughs and looks innocent, then grins ** I adore Fred and George, and I wish I could write them more often...or at least READ about them, hint, hint...Thanks for all your input! **Hugs**

Bill-- I LOVE it when you review. You always make me feel so good about myself. **grins and winks** I do indeed believe that a) I could wield quite the deadly purse, and b) Lee does have rather an inclination Ginny-ward and a much stronger fear of Fred and George...perhaps I might elaborate on that later...and, then again, perhaps not! **Grins** I love hearing from you...please don't leave me hanging long! **Hugs**

**

* * *

**

Ginny's fingers had barely brushed the surface of the pear in the painting Lee had shown her (in the course of her first year at Hogwarts) before the handle emerged. The painting itself popping open in such close succession Ginny didn't even have time to react. She didn't think she'd ever met the house elf who emerged, but that was hardly surprising, considering the number of elves it took to run a place the size of Hogwarts.

"Oh...um...hi," Ginny said as the elf seized her hand and pulled her unceremoniously into the kitchen.

"Dobby was hoping for visitors today. Indeed he was, Miss," the elf informed her happily.

"Um..." Ginny said, completely at a loss. She'd never had a house elf ask her anything except what they could do for her. "As a matter of fact . . . it is. . . . I'm --" she broke off suddenly, hit by the belated realization that the house elf had mentioned a name that seemed familiar. "I'm here . . . Dobby, was it?" She rolled the name over her tongue, as if she could feel the source of its familiarity in shaping its sound. "Because we . . . that is . . . the students in Gryffindor, are throwing a party for Harry, and -- "

"A party for Harry, Miss?" The elf asked, leaning forward so enthusiastically that Ginny nearly fell over the stool that one of the less obtrusive elves had thoughtfully provided for her to sit on. "A party for Harry Potter, Miss?"

"Yes," Ginny said slowly, still stunned by the presence of an elf who asked questions instead of bustling efficiently about. "Harry Potter...he's one of the Champions, and he got his egg away from the dragon--"

"Oh, Miss!" The elf gasped happily, clasping his hands before him in obvious glee. "Dobby knew he would, Miss! It's a great wizard Harry Potter is, Miss! A great wizard!"

"Dobby!" Ginny shouted suddenly.

"Yes, Miss, Dobby the House Elf, Miss," the Elf said, nodding so violently it was a wonder his head didn't fall off and roll away.

"You're the elf Harry told Ron about!"

"Ron, Miss?" The elf, Dobby, asked blankly.

"Ron — Ron Weasley — my brother, Ron," Ginny said wildly.

"Oh! Wheezey!" Dobby nodded sagely. "He wrote letters to Harry Potter, Miss. Dobby was seeing them, Miss."

"I know," Ginny said, rubbing her temple as it were some sort of spell to force him into making sense. "I'm Ginny. Ginny Weasley? Ron Weasley's my brother?"

"

Oooh...you is related to Wheezey?" Dobby looked momentarily surprised. "So you is a friend to Harry Potter, too? Dobby wasn't seeing letters from any other Wheezey, Miss."

"Well, Ron is closest to Harry," Ginny admitted. "But the rest of us are still his friends, and . . . You know that . . . thing . . . you tried to warn Harry about?"

"Oh!" Dobby nodded.

"Well," Ginny rushed to say before he could mention what it was, "Harry saved me from that. He and my brother Ron . . . I'm only here because of them."

"Oh! Me too, Miss! Me, too!" Dobby shrilled excitedly. "Harry Potter set Dobby free, he did, Miss! Dobby's master was a bad, bad man, Miss," he said, and several of the other elves leaned away from them moaning uncomfortably. "But Harry Potter set Dobby free, and Dobby came here with Winky, Miss," he pointed toward what looked like a pile of rags in the corner. "And Professor Dumbledore, he gave us jobs, Miss, and he even offered to pay us, Miss. . . . All because Harry Potter is a great wizard, Harry Potter is, Miss!"

"Yes," Ginny said dazedly, "he is. If he wasn't, he wouldn't have been able to defeat the dragon --" _Let alone the basilisk, or Tom. . . ._

She broke off as Dobby leaned forward again, looking for all the world like Ginny and her brothers had when they were little and mum used to gather them all around her and tell them stories. "You don't know what happened?"

"Dobby had to work, Miss," the elf said sadly. "Today isn't being Dobby's one day off a month, Miss."

_Come to think of it, I didn't get House Elves even **got** time off,so **of course** he would have to work instead of watching the Tri-Wizard Tournament, _Ginny thought with a burst of guilt for not having realized it sooner.

"Well, Dobby, Harry's performance was the best of any of the Champions," Ginny said. "First, Cedric Diggory. . . ."

By the time Ginny had finished recounting the nerve-wracking events of the day, taking special care to render Harry's performance in minute detail, the rest of the elves, having heard her mention a party, had assembled a prodigious number of rolls, pies, and cakes as well as several tall, frosty flasks of pumpkin juice.

"Will Miss be needing anything else?" an elf near her elbow inquired.

"No," Ginny laughed. "No, thank you," she added gravely, inclining her head to the elves at large. "This is far more than I expected — it will probably last all night! — You've done a wonderful job."

The elf who'd spoken bowed low and every elf in the kitchen beamed with pride. Then the food disappeared with a pop. Ginny blinked; she'd known the elves routinely apparated food onto the tables of the Great Hall -- she just hadn't imagined they would apparate similar amounts directly into Gryffindor Tower.

"Will Miss be coming after the next Task?" Dobby asked, looking anxious.

"I'm not sure, Dobby," said Ginny. "Someone from Gryffindor probably will but why…I'm sure Harry will tell you all about it himself when he gets time."

"Dobby knows a great wizard like Harry Potter has more important things to do with his time," the elf said wistfully.

It occurred to Ginny that perhaps she ought to be offended, as it obviously hadn't occurred to the elf she might be important enough to be busy, but she couldn't really begrudge Dobby for thinking Harry was special.

"I'm sure Harry will think visiting you is important, Dobby," she assured the elf. "But just in case he can't make it, I'll come tell you about the Tournament." _After all_, she added to herself, _it's the least I can do to thank you for trying to protect Harry from Tom's diary. I wish someone had been able to protect me . . . or that someone had at least tried to warn me about the damage **I **would do because of Tom and his diary. . . . _

Dobby wrung her hand with such gratitude it throbbed dully the entire way back to the Tower. Ginny trudged through the labyrinthine hallways and climbed far too many staircases, feeling as though Tom had loomed out of the past, just as he'd emerged from the pages of his old diary, to lurk over her shoulder. She wondered if Harry, the only person short of herself to see Tom as he had been, preserved in its pages, would be able to see the shadow he cast over her now. She couldn't decide if she more hoped he wouldn't, because she didn't want him to think of her like _that_; as Tom's companion, or his victim, or if, she more hoped he would, because he was the one person who might — just might — be able to dispel it.


	42. Back in the Tower

Disclaimer-If you like it, assume I don't own it. The Potterverse belongs to JKR, Steve Klowes, Scholastic and WB. Fanon belongs to the multitude...I'm simply paying homage. Most of this scene is from GoF by JK Rowling. No copyright infringement is intended, and no money is being made.

Author's Notes—Progress has been a lot slower in this work, but I hope you'll all stick with me anyway. As you all know, I may not own it, but I work hard, and I love it, so if you read it and enjoy it, please review it! Please don't print or post this elsewhere without my knowledge.

Congratulations, all! Book 6 is on the way! Yay!

Raiining-- I'm glad you enjoyed it…I think more fun is on the way…Oh, I REALLY want to see a Harry-Ginny conversation about Tom—it's SOOO overdue! I'm anxious for Book 6 as well, but hopefully this story will continue to keep us well entertained in the meantime…I'm glad you want to see my version of Book 5…I thought I might be the only one! Thanks for the good wishes—I have a portfolio coming due, so I'm pretty nervous! Best of luck to you in RL as well! J hugs

EEDOE—Thanks for all your advice…I hope chapters 42 and 43 prove worthy of it! hugs

Bill—I hadn't thought of it like that…but I guess it was the start of the HP fan club…I wonder if that was a mistake…you certainly make a good point about the parallels between Ginny and Dobby…now I'm interested to see if they're linked further as well…Yeah, perhaps I need to stop strumming my Tom Riddle harp now…but…well...I really do think all these things WOULD be constantly reminding Ginny of that experience…it wasn't exactly a little thing! …pouts Yeah…that was one of the few times I REALLY didn't like Harry. I agree…Ginny, Harry, and Ginny's relation to Tom Riddle are going to be important…so I strongly believe. Though I hadn't thought about the united parts of Voldemort in Ginny and Harry…hmm….food for thought…hugs

* * *

"Will you look at all this?" greeted George as Ginny climbed through the portrait hole, having offended the Fat Lady with her sullen attitude. "Even Fred and I never managed to filch this much at once. You've made us proud to call ourselves your brothers today, Gingersnaps." He sniffed, wiping a mock tear from his cheek, "truly."

"Even if it _did_ take you an inordinate amount of time," Fred added in—mostly—mock reproach. "You're just lucky Harry's taken his own sweet time in the Owlery."

"The Owlery?" Ginny repeated blankly. "How do you know Harry's been in the Owlery?" Fred and George raised their eyebrows at her and shook their heads, but she hadn't really expected them to tell her anyway, and was already asking, "But who would Harry be writing?"

"His muggle relatives?" George shrugged vaguely.

"Maybe…" Ginny allowed skeptically. Harry had always seemed indifferent to the Dursleys—at best. And even if he'd been moved to make an exception, Ginny doubted he'd be able to delude himself into thinking his magic-phobic relatives would be happy, or even willing, to hear about something as unmistakably magic in nature as the TriWizard Tournament. _But who . . . Professor Lupin? Possibly . . . but Professor Lupin's never mentioned getting letters from Harry, and I think he'd tell me . . . what if -- could Harry . . . I wonder if . . . Harry's writing Sirius Black?_ It was certainly a startling, but not altogether outrageous idea, and it was an idea Ginny entertained previously, over the course of the summer. But it was also not any of her business, and being well aware of that, she did her best to dismiss it in spite of her curiosity on the subject. _Besides which, he **might **have just been visiting Hedwig. . . . _

Harry, Ron, and Hermione returned to the Tower not long after she did. Lee, with impeccable timing, set off a string of Filibuster Fireworks the instant he caught sight of them through the opening portrait, so they seemed to enter in a shower of sizzles and sparks. The glittering explosions dazzled Ginny's eyes, coalescing with the emotional jolt seeing Harry always seemed to give her, leaving her with a disorienting sense of surrealism, as if Harry's presence was a hallucination or a dream . . . a thought she didn't care to acknowledge, let alone pursue.

An unearthly shriek echoing through the Common Room brought reality rushing back. Someone had opened the large golden egg Harry had snatched from the Horntail.

"Shut it," Fred bellowed, sounding like a wounded Troll. Or how Ginny imagined that sounded when Ron and Hermione described meeting one in the bathroom their First Year. Anyway, Fred was giving excellent advice. Opening the egg had, clearly, been a mistake.

"What was that?" Seamus asked, speaking for all of them. "Sounded like a banshee . . . maybe you've got to get past one of them next, Harry!"

"It was someone being tortured," Neville contradicted wildly, dropping the plate he'd been piling with sausage rolls. One spun across the floor. An orange paw extended from beneath one of the cozy, overstuffed couches as it passed and snatched it. As she bent to help Neville retrieve the rolls he had remaining, Ginny heard a crackling purr of satisfaction issue from the darkness beneath the sofa. She and Crookshanks might have noticed his lost sausage rolls, but Neville himself hadn't. "You're going to have to fight the Cruciatus Curse!" he gasped.

"Don't be a prat, Neville. That's illegal," George said immediately, making Ginny want to kick him. _You're the one being a prat, you insensitive git, _she thought hotly in his direction. "I thought it sounded a bit like Percy singing. . . ." George mused, oblivious of her wrath. "Maybe you've got to attack him while he's in the shower, Harry."

_I wonder if he meant to do that? _Ginny thought, watching the color creep back into Neville's cheeks as George spoke. If so, she could only be amazed, yet again, by the insight and resourcefulness the twins' betrayed at the unlikeliest of times in the unlikeliest of ways.

"Want a jam tart, Hermione?" inquired Fred. Hermione hesitated, eying the tarts, but Neville reached a shaky hand toward a custard cream. "It's all right," Fred reassured Hermione. "I haven't done anything to them. It's the custard creams you've got to watch--"

Neville choked. Fred laughed. "Just my little joke, Neville. . . ."

Hermione, still looking skeptical, helped herself to a jam tart. "Did you get all this from the kitchens, Fred?"

Fred might have glanced in Ginny's direction, but she was too startled to notice. _Dobby! I almost forgot! _

"Yep," she heard Fred answer. "Anything we can get you sir, anything at all," he squeaked in surprisingly good imitation as Ginny eased around Katie and Angelina, who were avidly discussing a few moves they'd seen Harry use during the Task, and how they could be applied next year in Quidditch, and tried to make her way over to Harry. "-- get me a roast ox if I said I was peckish."

"How do you get in there?" Hermione asked. Pausing to correct a mistake she saw in the Astronomy paper Tempest had been reduced to working on, Ginny resolved to give Hermione a few pointers on acting innocent sometime in the near future.

"Easy," said Fred, rather to Ginny's amazement; Hermione's feelings about house-elves aside, she hadn't thought the twins approved of giving away trade secrets. "Concealed door behind a painting of a bowl of fruit."

Ginny leapt nimbly sideways, avoiding Dennis Creevy's erratic shot in a heated game of gobstones, which nearly hit her in the eye, she shook her head in answer to Colin's invitation to the join them, and kept going.

"Just tickle the pear and it giggles and --" He broke off, an expression ridiculously reminiscent of Mum spreading across his face. "Why?"

"Nothing," said Hermione.

Ginny reached Harry in time to see him roll his eyes -- very much as she was inclined to do.

"Hey --" she began. George overpowered the sound of her voice, "Going to try and lead the house-elves out on strike are you?" he asked loudly. "Going to give up all the leaflet stuff and stir them into rebellion?"

Most of the Gryffindors laughed, though Ron managed not to join them, and the suggestion of a wince flitted across Harry's face, melting Ginny's heart still further in his favor. She sighed.

"Hey, Har --" she tried again.

"Don't you go upsetting them and telling them they've got to take clothes and salaries!" scolded Fred, still clearly channeling Mum. "You'll put them off their cooking!"

Hermione, looking indignant, opened her mouth to say something. Ginny hoped the situation wasn't about to get out of hand, but she needn't have worried. Before Hermione had the chance to say anything, Neville turned into a canary, diverting the argument.

"Oh -- sorry, Neville!" Fred shouted over the renewed roar of Gryffindor laughter. "I forgot — it _was_ the custard creams we hexed --"

Neville molted about the time Fred finished. He looked happier, and much more relaxed—he was even laughing.


	43. Visiting Mansfield Park

Disclaimer-If you like it, assume I don't own it. The Potterverse belongs to JKR, Steve Klowes, Scholastic and WB. Fanon belongs to the multitude. . .I'm simply paying homage. Most of this scene is from GoF by JK Rowling. No copyright infringement is intended, and no money is being made.

Author's Notes—Progress has been a lot slower in this work, but I hope you'll all stick with me anyway. As you all know, I may not own it, but I work hard, and I love it, so if you read it and enjoy it, please review it! Please don't print or post this elsewhere without my knowledge.

Congratulations, all! Book 6 is on the way! Yay!

Nyerh—Thanks for the review. :-) I apologize for worrying you with the delay, but I don't intend to drop this story anytime in the foreseeable future. . . I love it way too much! Hope to hear from you again soon.

Rayny—Thanks. I love the bittersweet way Ginny does get up courage to talk to Harry only to have fate intervene. All good things come to those wait. . . I'm just not sure that's much comfort to Ginny yet!

Raiining—Thanks for the well-wishes—the portfolio went better than I expected:-) I couldn't resist that little meow-ment for Crookshanks. Unlike Hagrid and J. K. Rowling, I'm extremely fond of cats. . . and, so, of course, is Ginny. ;-) Neville is getting short shrift now, but I believe he'll grow into himself just as we've seen Ginny doing. . .

EEDOE—Thanks as always for your time, interest, and support! They mean more than you realize! _**hugs**_

Bill—My enthusiasm for this story really has been renewed—I'm continually amazed at how rich, deep, and rewarding writing it is! It's nice to think that some of that same appreciation can be communicated to my readers. ;-) I'm really pleased you think I can add depth with deceptively simple lines. . . that's quite a compliment! I've missed you. . . hope to hear from you soon! _**hugs**_

* * *

_Could Fred have intended a Canary Cream for Neville in mind—a distraction for Hermione and a way of cheering Neville up— when he offered Hermione a jam tart? Surely not . . . that's **too** devious . . . even for the twins. . . . _

"Har--"

Several second years--intent on purchasing canary creams--rushed past, upsetting Ginny's balance, and violently jolted her out of her reverie in the process. Ginny tilted precariously, instinctively throwing her arms out to catch herself. Something in the motion must have alerted Harry to both her presence and her plight, because he reached out and caught her in one arm as if grasping the Snitch in mid-flight.

"Oy, there!" Harry shouted after Ginny's inadvertent attackers, sounding for all the world like Ron. "Watch it!" Then suddenly, he was looking down into her face, his green eyes distracted but somehow solicitous. "Alright there, Ginny?"

"I . . . yeah . . . I--I mean. . . . Thanks," she mumbled breathlessly. "Yet another amazing feat, for _such_ a young champion."

Harry grinned, looking more carefree than she usually saw him, and shrugged. "Not half as amazing as all this," he said easily. "No matter how they explain, I'll never quite understand how Fred and George manage. Brilliant, aren't they?"

"Among other things . . . um . . . about the kitchens--"

"Yeah," he broke in, seriousness tinting his expression, "it sounds as though Hermione's thinking of storming them, doesn't it?"

"Um . . . well, yeah, but. . . ."

"I don't think Ron and I will be able to talk her out of it. . . ." Harry said with the air of someone giving clandestine confession.

"No . . . probably not," said Ginny, still more aware of the lingering sensation of his hand briefly sliding across her back as he caught her, than of what he'd just said—let alone what she had been trying to say. She tried to swallow, but she found it hard to think, let alone do anything at all with the heat of Harry's body radiating gently toward her, his arm brushing hers just enough to make her wonder if the feeling was real, his eyes fixed so steadily upon her. "You . . . I . . . um . . . You . . . Are you going to go with her?"

"Have you gone nutters?" Harry demanded, with a wry grin that made Ginny's heart jerk sideways. "I'd rather face a dragon every day than SPEW."

"Um," Ginny replied intelligently. "That is . . . I think . . . the house-elves . . . they'll probably agree with you. . . . But Harry--"

"Wow, Harry! A dragon every day!" gasped Colin's little brother, Dennis. "Can Colin and I watch? Colin can take pictures--"

"Oh, hey, Ginny, want me to take a picture of you and Harry?" Colin asked, appearing out of nowhere.

Ginny could feel Harry's entire body tense as he groaned under his breath. "Oh no . . . not _again_."

"Well . . . it's nice of you to offer, but--"

A sudden burst of light—which, in retrospect, she should have been expecting—went off, leaving dark spots dancing in front of her eyes. Harry's fingers involuntarily clutched at her waist again as he jumped, blinking wildly.

"I bet that's a great picture," Dennis enthused. "I can't wait to see it . . . can you, Ginny? Now—my turn!"

Harry gave Ginny a helpless, but vaguely amused look over Dennis' head as he bounded between them. Ginny sighed, shaking her head, and offering Harry a last, wryly sympathetic smile as she retreated.

"Oh, I might as well give up," she mumbled under her breath, stalking toward the girls' dormitory. "I'm going to bed!"

After changing into her fuzzy-worn flannel pajamas, however, she ended up sitting in bed with Crookshanks curled and purring, across her feet as he attempted to snatch the quill—which she was using to write a letter describing the TriWizard Tournament to Professor Lupin—out of her hand when she wasn't looking. Once the letter was finished, Ginny, far too worried, excited, confused . . . or something . . . to sleep, or even to write in her journal, found herself taking up _Mansfield Park_, the novel Hermione had given her for her birthday.

Ginny read the account of Fanny's first family dinner with Edmund and the Crawfords with surprise, and the later visit which included Fanny's aunt and uncle eagerly.Fanny Price, the heroine of the novel, and her cousin Edmund Crawford's closest confidante, was sensitive, shy, and often overlooked…the more so since the lively, confident, playful Mary Crawford had moved into the neighborhood . . . and yet . . . somehow, even though she disapproved of Miss Crawford, and her brother Henry, Fanny was becoming Miss Crawford's friend

Ginny could hardly imagine what would happen at the ball Sir Thomas was planning to throw for Fanny, amazed as she was at the development of such a ball. . . . She finally fell asleep, still wondering, long after the other girls had filled the room with the soft sound of their snoring.

Her dreams were a confused muddle of images . . . herself imposed over Fanny, Harry as Edmund. . . . Henry Crawford without a face . . . and then, staring at her own image in a strange mirror with writing around the frame for ages, until Tom's shadow began to flicker beneath it and rise to the surface like the face of a drowning victim in a lake. . . . Her own voice, distant and detached, wailing like Seamus' banshee-- "No!" The image shifting, shimmering between Tom's face and someone else's . . . she thought . . . it might be Harry . . . and then exploding suddenly in a relieving, heartbreaking, shower of sparks like golden rain. . . .

She woke hot and cross, a condition the shower did nothing to correct, as it refused to flow smoothly, keeping on in fits and starts, sometimes icy, sometimes scalding in a way that made Ginny want to curse anything or anyone who would hold still long enough for her to take her frustration out on.

All the little imperfections of appearance she rarely took time to notice in herself seemed to leap out at her as she dressed. Her skirt, limp with age, still somehow managed to look rumpled. There were spots—probably from that incident in Potions last week—on her blouse. Her robes had split along the left armpit. And for some reason—look where she would, she couldn't seem to locate her House tie. Grimly thankful the mirror had enough sense not to say anything, Ginny went down to breakfast only to find the table already so crowded she was forced to perch awkwardly on the end of the bench, a full table-length away from Lee, Ron and Hermione, and the twins.

Which was probably just as well, since it meant she was also far away from Harry; still off-balance from the night before, she felt equally incapable of dealing with his interest or his indifference . . . but being separated from him bothered her just the same . . . especially since she couldn't quit thinking about those few seconds in the tower when they'd been so very close indeed. . . .


	44. A Ball of Their Own

Disclaimer-If you like it, assume I don't own it. The Potterverse belongs to JKR, Steve Klowes, Scholastic and WB. Fanon belongs to the multitude. . .I'm simply paying homage. Most of this scene is from GoF by JK Rowling. No copyright infringement is intended, and no money is being made.

Author's Notes—Progress has been a lot slower in this work, but I hope you'll all stick with me anyway. As you all know, I may not own it, but I work hard, and I love it, so if you read it and enjoy it, please review it! Please don't print or post this elsewhere without my knowledge.

Congratulations, all! Book 6 is on the way! Yay!

Raiiining—Yeah…finally! I was so excited! That certainly wasn't Ginny's shining moment, but she still hasn't gotten her feet around Harry yet…and she DID talk to him, intelligently or not. ;-)

Realfanficts—I felt like I had died or abandoned you—it seemed like decades—but I'd been thinking about the story and my readers all along. Thanks for the compliment! I hope you enjoy this chapter as well. :-)

Arachna—I do admit it was a long time. . . far too long! I admit that the incident with Harry wasn't mentioned in his POV within the canon, but I don't consider that any indication it couldn't have happened for him, as he doesn't dwell on each minute detail of a party or event, and I suspect that kind of haphazard interaction in the Gryffindor Common Room happens far too often for him to see it as significant. Ginny, on the other hand…**_grins and shrugs_** I appreciate the feedback, though...thanks! Hope you enjoy the new installment.

EEDOE—I loved that little romantic moment for Ginny. . . I get to write so few of them. That line about the shower was one of my favorites, so I'm glad you liked it. And, I totally agree…I can sympathize with Ginny's reaction the mirror. Being a girl can be rough! Thanks for all your help! **_hugs_**

Bill—That was too funny for words. When are you posting your first fanfiction? Hope you enjoy this…and to hear from you soon. **_hugs_**

* * *

It soon became clear Ginny needn't have worried about directing Harry's notice to Dobby. Within a few days, Hermione took care of it for her, running into the elf on her attempted raid of the kitchens. Ginny was pleased to know the elf had received some of the attention he craved but didn't feel worthy to request. Ginny had even more sympathy for Dobby now than she had when they'd first met, having spent the last several days keeping constant watch of Harry, anxious to continue talking to him now she had begun but unsure of what to say, and keeping enough distance between them that she didn't have to deal with whatever his reaction might have been if he had noticed her presence.

Thursday, Ginny took advantage of her lighter schedule and the near-empty Gryffindor Tower to distract herself with an attempt to catch up on her studies in Occlumency. She was deeply absorbed in the nondescript but informative volume Professor Lupin had sent when Tempest's voice, near Ginny's shoulder, sent her into several seconds of fumbling attempts to catch the book she'd inadvertently tossed into the air with a shriek.

"Oh, sorry, Ginny," said Tempest. "I didn't mean to scare you, but you were so stuck in that book! You've been spending too much time with that Hermione—you're turning into a regular bookworm! But I bet even she's going to put the books aside for this, isn't she? I mean, she's so lucky she gets to go—maybe even with a champion, since she's always hanging around Harry—for once I'm really jealous of her, aren't you? But maybe we'll get lucky. I mean, someone might ask us, right? Do you think it would count if we asked them to invite us?"

Ginny, having taken time to slide her book into her pocket and attempt to regulate her pulse and breathing, blinked mildly. "Uh, sure? But _who_ are we asking to invite us to _what_, Tempest?"

Tempest looked taken aback. "You mean you haven't heard?"

"That is exactly what I mean, actually," Ginny returned drily. "What are you talking about?"

"The Yule Ball!" Tempest exclaimed, aghast at Ginny's stupidity. "There's going to be a ball for fourth year and above. And the Champions are going to open the ball by dancing the first with their partners!"

"A ball," Ginny repeated slowly. "You mean, a real, dancing ball, like in _Mansfield Park_?"

"Where's that?" Tempest looked momentarily confused. "Oh, who cares? Of course a real dancing ball, with live music and everything! Oh, I _really_ want to go, don't you?"

"Well . . . it _does _sound like fun . . ." Ginny admitted. "But we probably shouldn't get our hopes up too much . . . after all, we're not fourth years."

Tempest looked at Ginny as if she'd just betrayed all of womankind, but the approach of Patricia Hart, talking animatedly to Lavender Brown and Parvati Patil seemed to distract her slightly. Ginny took the opportunity to escape, though she couldn't resist heading to the fourth year girls' dormitory instead of her own.

Crookshanks greeted her with an encouraging purr, and Ginny scratched between his ears trying not to picture Harry, looking at her with that serious stare, asking her to go to the dance with him . . . trying not to imagine what dancing with him would be like, his hand on her waist, her hand in his. . . .

"Oh, hi, Ginny," said Hermione, dropping her bag on the floor with a resounding thunk. "I take it you heard, then?"

"Tempest sounded more enthusiastic," Ginny answered.

Hermione sighed, sitting next to her on the bed and pulling her knees up to her chest. "I'm not really sure how I feel about it yet," she said. "Balls in books are always so . . . grown-up."

"And romantic?" suggested Ginny, still thinking of _Mansfield Park_.

"But . . ."

"I can't really picture romance associated with Harry and Ron," Ginny said for her. "Let alone the twins, but even if it isn't as wonderful as the dances in books--"

"I'm afraid it will just be embarrassing," Hermione admitted. Crookshanks rubbed his face reassuringly along the bottom of her feet and continued to purr. "What if no one asks me?"

"At least you'll still be able to go," Ginny sighed. "I'm stuck being left out. Again."

"Being left out is better than having everyone staring out you wondering why you couldn't even get a partner for a dance," Hermione said.

"You're worrying over nothing," Ginny told her, "if anything, you'll have the opposite problem—you'll have to pick your partner—Harry or Ron."

Hermione went slightly pink. "Oh, I hope not," she said, "I'd hate to disappoint either one of them. . ."

"I'm sure they know that," Ginny said, wrapping an arm around her shoulders to give them an affectionate squeeze.

"But . . . you know what the obvious solution is. . . " Hermione said into the ensuing pause.

"Obvious to us," Ginny agreed. "But maybe not to them. . . ."

When she and Hermione were alone in the holly-and-ivy bedecked library a few days later, Ginny couldn't help asking, "So, has anyone asked you to the ball yet?"

Hermione looked up with a wryly sympathetic smile. "No, thank you for asking. I have two male best friends and no date to the Yule Ball—it hasn't even occurred to them that they _could_ ask me."

"It hasn't occurred to them to ask anyone," Ginny consoled Hermione—and herself—with a dry chuckle.

"Oh, it's occurred to them who _not_ to ask," Hermione said scathingly. "Eloise Midgen, for example. Though we're not on that list either . . . I doubt they've even recognized the fact we _are_ girls. Maybe you should just come as my guest. At least then--"

"Is that allowed?" Ginny asked.

Hermione, staring over Ginny's shoulder, didn't answer. Ginny, turned to see what had distracted her, and felt dwarfed by the looming presence of Viktor Krum. He looked surprisingly shy and awkward. "Can we help you?" Ginny prompted politely.

"I vas vandering . . ." he began uncomfortably, almost apologetically, looking between his feet, Hermione, and Ginny, and shifting his weight. "That is . . . I think you are the most beautiful girl . . . and I vould be honored . . . vold you consider . . . I vould like it if . . . vould you go to the Yule Ball vith me?"

Ginny felt hot and flushed, though whether it was with embarrassment for her own lack of a date, sympathetic discomfort for Krum, sisterly rage for Ron . . . or. . . . She really couldn't begin to decide.

Hermione looked stunned, then suddenly flushed pink and looked flattered. "I – I um . . . I thought. . ." she faltered, glancing at Ginny. Suddenly resolute, Ginny nodded. "That would be lovely, thank you," Hermione finished awkwardly. Krum beamed, looking boyishly vulnerable and enthusiastic, and Ginny couldn't help being glad Hermione didn't disappoint him. They watched him walk away in a silence that stretched.

"Well . . ." Hermione said eventually. "Well. . . ."

"Hermione," Ginny said a little later, "you realize you just got asked to the ball by _the_ most sought-after boy at Hogwarts? That's incredible!"

"I know," Hermione said, sounding miserable. "Everyone's going to be wondering what he was thinking--"

"No," Ginny contradicted firmly, "they're going to be wondering how they could have missed seeing everything he admires about you."

"They'll all think I tricked him into it because I wanted a famous escort . . . Ron--"

"And Harry know better than that," Ginny finished, though she knew Ron might say that was what Hermione wanted, whether he knew better or not. He certainly wasn't going to be happy. . . "They had their chance to ask you, anyhow. It's their fault if they didn't, not yours. You've got a date for the ball and you should be able to enjoy it! What are you going to wear?"

"Oh, Mum and I got the nicest dress robes in Diagon Alley! I can't believe I haven't shown them to you already—they're in my room, come and see--!" said Hermione, in an excited rush. Ginny couldn't help but grin.


	45. Escort Escapades

J. Rhaye—Yay! I was so happy to see your reviews! I thought you'd given up on me! I understand sporadic reviews…I'm just pleased to get them.does happy dance I love the twins…Like you, I think they're far more perceptive and compassionate than most people in their world recognize. One of the things I've enjoyed most about writing Ginny is being able to write a character with enormous internal strength and resilience and yet an image of fragility and a fear of weakness—to me that's a very interesting dichotomy that can never really be fully portrayed. The way that Tom and Voldemort are the same but different, and the effect of the two on Harry, on Ginny, and on the relationship between Harry and Ginny is another very complex relationship that has really kept this story interesting for me, and I hope for the readers! I love Ginny's relationship with Neville, too—I think, given a chance, Neville could truly shine, and Ginny sees that—in some ways, his lack of confidence echoes her own. I love _Mansfield Park_ as well…_Pride and Prejudice _will always be my favorite, but _MP_ is a very close second, and I read it constantly! It really made my day to know that someone else who loves the book can see the references I was making—kind of to myself, as it were. That's another thing I love about Ginny…she can dream but she doesn't let it interfere with having a clear view of reality. And writing the relationship between Ginny and Hermione is always so much fun! I look forward to Neville asking Ginny and Ginny's confrontation with Ron and Harry as well…I hope I can do them justice! Thanks again for all your great comments! _**hugs**_

Arachnasloom—I think I like Arachnasloom the best; I'm honored you asked my opinion! Feel free to review as much as you like…I love hearing from readers—especially readers that put me on their favorites list:-) I'm glad to hear you're enjoying the story, and I look forward to hearing from you again!

Vixen519—Thanks; it always makes my day to have someone say they enjoy my series! J Ginny is my favorite character, too...but you probably guessed that. _**winks**_ I do have a very soft spot for Remus Lupin, though! I hope you continue reading, and I love to hear from you again. :-)

Raiining—That line really tickled my funny bone as well…I had such a great visual:-) It isn't often you even have the option to write Hermione as a girly girl…I really enjoyed that as well. I can't wait to see what I do either…I hope it's good! _**looks nervous**_ Thanks for the praise…more on the way!

Bill—Oddly enough, I hadn't really thought of Hermione as having a confidence problem. . . she's always so in control, so assured of what she knows and how to apply the knowledge. If anyone had asked me, I'd have said she was confident. But now that you've pointed it out, I guess her self-confidence is a little shaky on the popularity front…how could it be otherwise with Ron and Harry neglecting to think she's a girl, Malfoy and the Slytherins always telling her she's ugly, and everyone in her year telling her she's an insufferable know-it-all? I agree the rule hardly seems fair, but perhaps it is simply part of the old standard "age has its privileges." While I think the younger students are jealous of those who get to attend, I also think they like knowing that someday they will receive those same privileges. My thoughts on the TriWizard Tournament completely! **_giggles_** It seems to be such a bizarre way to handle something I can only compare to the Olympic games…it hardly seems organized at all…but perhaps with Ludo Bagman as one of the people in charge, that was to be expected? It probably is a good thing that Ron is unaware of Ginny's role, though if he tried to give her a hard time, I suspect she'd get the better of him in the end…of course, I am a bit prejudiced…Harry and Ron are both extremely frustrating in their cluelessness at this point in the book. I do see angst-heavy waters ahead from Ginny's POV…but I suppose they were almost unavoidable at this point, and I do think it will be interesting to see how the coming scenes play a role in the germination of Harry and Ginny's friendship in OotP. I hope you enjoy the way I handle the scene with Neville! I love your film…it definitely deserved that Oscar! ;-) _**hugs**_

EEDOE—Thanks a bunch for all your support and feedback…hope the result is worth it! _**hugs**_

_**

* * *

**_

They couldn't have gotten back to the tower much faster if Hermione had Apparated them. She was pulling Ginny along at such a swift clip; everything around them was an indistinguishable blur, at least to Ginny's eyes. That being the case, it was no wonder she ran—hard—into Hermione as the other girl stopped short suddenly.

"Oh! Sorry, Neville! I almost didn't see you there!"

Ginny thought Neville looked even more nervous and jumpier than usual, though her vision might just have been distorted by the way she was squinting, eyes tearing and stinging, as she reached up to rub her flattened nose. Or, it might have been the fact he'd narrowly avoided a similar fate of being flattened by Hermione dead on. "That's okay," he said diffidently. "Actually, there was something I wanted to ask--"

"I'd love to answer any questions you have, Neville, but could they wait until this evening? Ginny and I are kind of in the middle of something."

It _would _be a good idea to go over it later, if-if you don't mind," Neville said with a sheepish cough. "But, I -- I really didn't have a question about my homework."

Hermione looked as flabbergasted as Ginny felt. "Oh," she said slowly. "But if you didn't want to ask me about homework, then what--"

"Actually, I wanted – I wanted to tell you that you've been really nice to me, ever since you tried to help me find Trevor on our very first day . . . helping me with classes and stuff. I really appreciate it--"

"Don't be silly, Neville, our study sessions help me as much as they help you, and I enjoy them." Ginny's heart swelled with affectionate pride in Hermione's obviously sincere response.

Neville looked pleasantly surprised. Ginny nearly pulled him into a bone-crunching hug, something that would have proved quite a feat with Hermione still standing between them. And, on reflection, as nervous as Neville looked, it was probably best she didn't do anything to distract him until he'd fulfilled his goal.

"Well, I thought, maybe -- it might be nice if I didn't have to go the ball by myself and have everyone stare at me . . . And, if I have to have a date, there's no one at Hogwarts I'd rather go with than you, Hermione. That is," he added with a faint sigh, "if you wouldn't be embarrassed or anything."

"Oh, Neville, of course I wouldn't be embarrassed," Hermione exclaimed. "How could you think such a thing? I'm . . . just so -- flattered that you even thought of _me_. . .But I'm afraid I _can't_ go with you, even though I'd like to, because I already have a date. I'm sorry."

"Oh, that's okay," Neville said with a self-deprecating shrug, "I figured that might happen. I guess you've already been asked by Ron or Harry, huh?"

Hermione cast a rueful glance over her shoulder at Ginny. "No. . . not exactly. . ." she said uncomfortably, hurrying to add, "But if you thought one of them might have asked me already, did you have someone else in mind you could invite? I'm sure any girl would be thrilled to have you ask her."

"Actually," Neville said uncomfortably, sneaking a glimpse at Ginny and looking down quickly, "I think she's probably already been asked, too, hasn't she Ginny?"

Ginny blinked. "Neville, are you asking _me_ to go with you to the ball?"

Neville, apparently too embarrassed now to speak, nodded violently.

Ginny felt a twinge of pain and regret. Her first invitation to a dance . . . her first date . . . and it hadn't come from Harry Potter . . . but it had, at least, come from a friend. A friend she didn't want to disappoint . . . and wasn't she the one who'd just told Hermione that Harry and Ron had already had their chance to ask them, and they shouldn't wait around for them to come to their senses? "Then, yes, I _do_ have an escort, Neville—you!"

* * *

To Ginny's surprise, the fourth year girls' dormitory was completely empty. At least it gave her something to think about, other than the somewhat disorienting events of the day. "I thought everyone decided to stay at school for the ball?"

Hermione, already rummaging through her trunk, paused and looked around over her shoulder. "Oh, they did," she agreed calmly. "They're in the Entrance Hall or about grounds—interviewing perspective escorts, I would imagine. You should hear them, debating the relative merits of every boy they know—Ah! Here we are!" She pulled something out of the trunk with a triumphant flourish and spun toward Ginny looking uncharacteristically girlish. "What do you think?"

The robes were simple, but stunning. Long, full sleeves spilled softly from the slope of the same neckline displayed by their school robes, but the neckline on Hermione's dress robes was enhanced by the narrowest band of silver, a band that so nearly matched the pale, pale, pale blue color of the heavy, shimmering fabric, that it was a mere suggestion. The same silver bound the bottoms of the sleeves, as well as the hem, and a similar narrow silver band wrapped around the waist of the robes twice so that it crossed over itself once in the front, and—as Hermione turned the robes to show Ginny—one in the back, and tied in a simple knot with the ends fluttering loose against the blue length of the robes. As an extra little flourish, the neckline of the robes dipped slightly in back as well. Ginny thought it would stop between Hermione's shoulder blades.

"Well?" Hermione demanded, sounding a bit anxious.

"Well, wow." Ginny said with the faint twist of a wry grin. "Wow, Hermione. They're spectacular!"

"Then what's wrong?" Hermione demanded, setting the robes skeptically aside as Ginny felt the color drain from her face.

"Hermione," Ginny said faintly, "what was I thinking? I can't go to the ball!"

"What? Don't be ridiculous," Hermione said, clearing channeling Professor McGonagall again. "Of course you can go, you just told Neville you would."

"I know, but, Hermione, you don't understand—I don't have any dress robes!"

Hermione stared at her blankly for a moment, then began to laugh.

"It's not funny!" Ginny protested, incensed. "I really wanted to go! And what about Neville? What am I supposed to tell him?"

"Ginny Weasley," Hermione said, still in McGonagall mode, "your brother Ron once said something to me, which I am now going to say to you--"

"I highly doubt anything _Ron _said is likely to be of much help in this situation," Ginny muttered under her breath, softly enough that Hermione missed it

"Are you or are you _not_ a witch?" Hermione concluded, looking smug.


	46. A Popular Pastime

Disclaimer-If you like it, assume I don't own it. The Potterverse belongs to JKR, Steve Klowes, Scholastic and WB. Fanon belongs to the multitude. . .I'm simply paying homage. Most of this scene is from GoF by JK Rowling. No copyright infringement is intended, and no money is being made.

Author's Notes—Progress has been a lot slower in this work, but I hope you'll all stick with me anyway. As you all know, I may not own it, but I work hard, and I love it, so if you read it and enjoy it, please review it! Please don't print or post this elsewhere without my knowledge.

HBP—WOW! I devoured it, and I'm still digesting. I can't believe it's really here…I need to read it again, how about you guys?

Raiining—Thanks! I'm glad you thought everyone was themselves! I really love trying to bring them to life. :-)

J. Rhaye—It's nice to see your name back up on my wall…Hope you enjoyed (and/or are enjoying HBP!) I'm looking forward to OotP and HBP as well…but they seem FAR away. _**pouts**_ I admit, you guys have to have noticed by now…I can't resist slapstick humor at any opportunity. J I loved the whole scene with Ginny, Hermione, and Neville as well. If I hadn't been able to write Ginny and Hermione as taking it as a compliment, I'd have been so upset! I agree…it took tons of courage for him to do that…especially to ask Ginny after Hermione turned him down like that! I loved getting the chance to describe Hermione's dress too…Harry and Ron are too masculine to appreciate all the fine details! Silly, boys:-) I do empathize with Ginny's dilemma though… Looking forward to having you pop in again! _**hugs**_

Arachnasloom—Thanks for asking my opinion! And…that was a really nice thing to say about EEDOE! I totally agree that she has excellent taste…and her own stories are great proof of it! I love your insight into Ginny's way with words…you describe part of what drew me to her character in a way I hadn't even recognized yet—thanks! I agree that Harry's thickness on the point of the ball could be seen as a foretaste of his insensitivity in OotP, which just shows Rowling does a good job:-) Looking forward to a chance to read your story. :-)

EEDOE—Thanks for bringing your special touch to my work, too. I would be lost without you, so stick around, okay?

* * *

Bill—Without you, this story would never have gotten past the beginning of MoP. Hope the chapter is good now that you know the mechanics behind it! _**hugs**_

* * *

"Hermione, you've lost it. What does being a witch have to do with--" she stopped and began to laugh as well. "You can't seriously mean I should charm my robes? My everyday school robes?"

"Well?" Hermione prompted with that deepening look of smug satisfaction. "Why not?"

"It would be pretty complicated," Ginny said, thinking hard. "I'd have to cast a Chameleon Charm on the school crest so it wouldn't show. . ."

"You put Neville right on that same charm three times last month," Hermione said coolly.

Ginny gave her a squelching a look, somewhat hampered by the fact she was taking off the robe she wore over her skirt and blouse.

"And. . ." Ginny continued, ignoring Hermione in the corner attempting to contain her glee, as she cast the charm and critically studied the result. ". . . the color. . ."

"Did Ron ever tell you we made a banner for Harry's first Quidditch game?" Hermione said. "It said POTTER FOR PRESIDENT. I used a Glitzy Glamour to make the paint flash different colors."

"Yes, well, while I'd like something a bit snappier than our everyday black, I doubt I want to be flashing various colors," Ginny said, smiling wryly.

"So use a Freezing Charm to lock the effects of the charm!" Hermione said as if it should have been obvious. "You could even use a Fading Spell to make the color more like an iridescent tint over the black. But," she continued, "I admit layering charms can be kind of tricky and while I'm sure you could do it without any trouble, we could probably find a color-changing charm that's less complicated. It would only take us a couple of hours in the library--" Her voice trailed off as she helped Ginny make various adjustments to the charms she was already testing.

"Well, dear, isn't that nice," the mirror said to Ginny as she surveyed the results of their experiment a few minutes later. Ginny sighed. It certainly wasn't what she'd envisioned wearing to her first dance, let alone anything to rival the beauty of Hermione's robes, but it wasn't terrible. "I suppose," she said with a decided lack of enthusiasm, "it will do if it has to."

"Anyway, this was just the first go round," Hermione said with an air of encouragement, "it will look even better after we've had the chance to practice."

* * *

**_It wouldn't even have occurred to me to charm an old school robe like that. Some of those charms aren't exactly easy to pull off, but Hermione's quite brilliant, and the result didn't look too bad . . . _**

Ginny concluded later that night in the letter she was writing to Bill.

A short note to her parents, simply telling them Neville had invited her to the Ball and she was excited to have the chance to attend, sat off to the side, ready to send, and a letter to Professor Lupin—the contents of which were more detailed than the letter to her parents, but less confident than those of the letter she was currently writing—rested on top of it.

She lifted her slightly-straggly quill off the parchment with a sigh, and glanced over it to where Ron, Harry, and Hermione were conferring over a castle of Exploding Snap cards near the fire. None of them noticed her scrutiny, let alone offered any solutions to what was bothering her . . . which was only to be expected, since she couldn't even really describe what that was to begin with.

_**The ball is all anyone here can talk about, and I enjoy spending time with Neville . . . I have to admit, I'm glad to get to go. Hope things are going as well for you in Egypt. **_

_**Love,**_

At that point, the castle blew up in Ron's face, leaving smoking trails where his eyebrows had been, and adding a few interesting wiggles to her signature. . .

**_Ginny_**

"Nice look, Ron, go well with your dress robes, that will," Fred's voice carried clearly across the short space between her and the rest of them, and she set her sealed letter aside and watched the twins sit down at the table with Harry, Ron, and Hermione.

"Can we borrow Pigwidgeon?" George asked.

"No, he's off delivering a letter," Ron said edgily, casting a wary look first at Harry, then at Hermione. Ginny felt her curiosity pique. Apparently, so did Ron. "Why?"

"Because, George wants to invite him to the ball," Fred said sarcastically. Ginny snickered softly.

"Because _we_ want to send a letter, you stupid, great prat," said George. Ginny glanced at her own stack of letters and rubbed her temple thoughtfully. _Certainly is a popular pastime all of a sudden . . . I wonder why?_

"Who d'you two keep writing to, eh?" Ron demanded. Ginny raised her own, thankfully unsinged, eyebrows at the similarity of their thoughts.

"Nose out, Ron," Fred said, somewhat predictably, "or I'll burn that for you, too." He flourished his wand in a way that made Ginny snicker again. "So . . . you lot got dates for the ball yet?"

Ginny stopped snickering and sat up straighter, trying to be casual in the process.

"Nope," said Ron.

Ginny looked at Harry, who hadn't said anything. He became suddenly interested in the book he'd been reading; and didn't bother to contradict Ron.

"Well, you'd better hurry up, mate, or all the good ones will be gone," Fred advised.

_If you ask me, they already are,_Ginny thought, feeling her lip curl a bit snidely. _But I forgot -- you and Harry didn't ask me or Hermione—that's the problem!_

"Who're you going with, then?" Ron asked, feeling his eyebrows, as though trying to put out any remaining sparks with his fingers.

"Angelina," said Fred, as if this were as incontrovertible as rain.

"What? You already asked her?" Ron sounded unduly impressed.

"Good point," Fred conceded with a bit of a grin. He turned and called over his shoulder, "Oi! Angelina!"

Angelina, chatting near the fire with Alicia Spinnet, paused and turned to look at him over her shoulder. "What?"

"Want to come to the ball with me?"

Angelina gave Fred a bit of an appraising look. As near as Ginny could tell, he didn't even flush in the least. For that, Ginny would have liked to set fire to him. But, she couldn't help feeling happy for him nonetheless as Angelina said, "All right, then," and turned back to Alicia with the hint of a smile on her face.

"There you go," said Fred, "piece of cake." He stood up again, yawning. "We'd better use a school owl then, George, come on. . . ."

Ginny nearly called out that she'd accompany them with her own letters, but giving them some privacy—as they didn't seem to want people knowing what they were up to—at the cost of a slight delay in sending her own mail was a small price to pay Fred for having offered her—and Hermione—inadvertent vindication in showing up both Harry and Ron in the process of asking a girl to the ball.

Ron looked at Harry through the smoldering remains of his card castle. "We _should _get a move on, you know . . . ask someone. He's right. We don't want to end up with a pair of trolls."

Ginny sat up even straighter, sucking her breath in with an indignant hiss. Crookshanks brushed across her ankles, as if reminding her to maintain some semblance of composure. She reached down and trailed her fingers along the barest edge of his spiky fur, still bristling herself.

". . ._what_," Hermione spit dangerously, "excuse me?"

"Well—you know," Ron said, shrugging, not looking nearly uneasy enough in Ginny's opinion; or, she thought, in Hermione's. "I'd rather go alone than with—with Eloise Midgen, say."

"Her acne's loads better lately—and she's really nice!" Hermione said indignantly, and with the air of someone repeating a conversation she'd had several times already.

"Her nose is off-center," Ron reminded her with an air of one long misunderstood.

"Oh, I see," Hermione said in a tone that made both Ginny and Crookshanks draw back slightly. "So basically, you're going to take the best-looking girl who'll have you, even if she's completely horrible?"

"Er—yeah, that sounds about right," Ron said. Disgusted as she was, Ginny had to admire his honesty. Harry, too, looked torn between embarrassment and agreement, an observation that made Ginny think she might offer to help him test antidotes—and poisons—for his upcoming exam in potions.

"I'm going to bed," Hermione snapped, with more self-control than Ginny could have mustered. Harry and Ron looked at each other, clearly flabbergasted, as she vanished up the stairs, then began gathering up their things, apparently deciding that if they couldn't explain it, they might as well go along with it.

Deciding Fred and George had had more than enough time to get into trouble, considering how much Ron had managed to get in, Ginny scooped up her letters and headed up to the Owlery to mail them.


	47. Always the Oblivious

Disclaimer-If you like it, assume I don't own it. The Potterverse belongs to JKR, Steve Klowes, Scholastic and WB. Fanon belongs to the multitude. . .I'm simply paying homage. Most of this scene is from GoF by JK Rowling. No copyright infringement is intended, and no money is being made.

Author's Notes—Progress has been a lot slower in this work, but I hope you'll all stick with me anyway. As you all know, I may not own it, but I work hard, and I love it, so if you read it and enjoy it, please review it! Please don't print or post this elsewhere without my knowledge.

HBP—WOW! I devoured it, and I'm still digesting. I can't believe it's really here…I need to read it again, how about you guys?

And—oh, yeah—I know there are a couple little things in previous stories I should adjust to be in canon, but its either revision or new posts...for now, I prefer to keep the momentum going! Hope you appreciate the longer-than-usual chappie!

Arachnasloom—What a nice thing to say, thanks! Real people sometimes do silly and unexpected things—particularly when they're young and have a massive crush—so I thought it was important to the development of Ginny as a realistic character that she DID send them both the Valentine and the Get Well Card. I'm glad to know that you agree :-)

JamieBell, GigiFanfic, vixen519, realfanficts, nyerh, Rayny, and all you other semi-silent readers—Haven't heard from you in a while...hope you're still reading!

Raiining—Looking forward to your next review :-)

J.Rhaye—I'm really looking forward to OotP and HBP as well...if my stamina holds up, that is! crosses fingers and looks for wood to knock You make a great point about Hermione's uniques perspective on magic—I hadn't even consciously thought of that! I agree, I liked Ginny's choice to do something active rather than sit moping and passive. I think Ginny can be a bit vindictive—to be vindictive is merely human, after all—but that it's always leavened with empathy, which is more than most people can say. I agree, seeing that scene through Ginny's eyes is easier, because we know she and Hermione aren't sitting around sighing after what they can't have. . . and soon the boys will too! ;-) I'll keep your space warm for you! hugs

EEDOE—I can only hope this chapter lives up to all the support and help you've put into it! Thanks! hugs

Bill—I agree with you a hundred and fifty percent about Neville—I think he may just be the REAL hero of the HP series. I was kind of under the impression Neville and Ginny HAD started a friendship already, or he wouldn't have asked her to the Ball? But I see what you mean; it probably does deepen and mature between now and the end of OotP. I agree that Ginny's deepening popularity is simply a blossoming of seeds planted far earlier in her school career. So...you thought editing was, fun, huh? I think we may see you morph into a writer yet. ;-) And, yes, for the record, females do often think men are—funny—pigs. :-D hugs

* * *

Since Ginny didn't have classes on Friday until her Astronomy lesson that evening, she spent most of the morning lolling happily in bed, picturing the upcoming holidays, spent with Harry and including the ball. After lunch, she wandered out to the Quidditch Pitch and flew about for a bit, enjoying the freedom until her ears and nose stopped feeling numb and began to burn with cold.

Hagrid, at home, and surprisingly unoccupied, was more than happy to remedy this with a huge, steaming mug of wonderfully fragrant tea in front of his comfortable, crackling fire. Ginny wished that she could be rather more helpful in suggesting what he should get Madam Maxime for Christmas, but Hagrid didn't seem to notice her lack of familiarity with Madam Maxime's personal tastes. Ginny had to admit—to herself at least—that, understand it or not, she had rarely seen him so happy. She was, in fact—though she tried hard _not _to admit it—more than a bit jealous. Feeling lonely, disgruntled, and somewhat ridiculous for feeling either, Ginny stalked back up to the common room.

"Oh, Ginny!" Colin called, making her turn around in circles in the attempt to locate where his voice was coming from. "I got my pictures developed. Come see." He had solved her problem by grabbing her hand and bodily yanking her into a—rather shadowy—corner of the room where his little brother, Denis, was sitting in front of a coffee table.

She was in the midst of studying several shots of various Gryffindors as canaries, courtesy of sweets from Fred and George, when the portrait swung open and Ron dropped into the room, looking completely blinkered and mightily embarrassed; rather as though Peeves had clubbed him with a large fish. He didn't seem to have any clear idea of where to go, or of what to do, but simply stood there as if petrified.

"These are great, Colin," Ginny said with a sigh, "I'd love to see the rest of them some time . . ."

Leaving the Creevy brothers behind to stare at her back in blank confusion, she went to retrieve her brother. "Ron . . . are you okay? What happened?"

He turned to face her, staring at her with goggling, dazed eyes and a distinctly flushed complexion. "Why did I do it? I don't know what made me do it!"

Ginny grabbed his arm and led him, unresisting, to another corner, far removed from the Creevys. "What did you do?"

"I don't know what made me do it," Ron groaned, sinking into the overstuffed chair as if hoping it would completely absorb him from view. "I didn't _mean _to . . ."

"It's okay, Ron," said Ginny, perching on the arm of the chair and patting his shoulder. "Whatever you did, I'm sure it can't be that bad—Fred and George have done far worse." _Probably this week even. _

"There were people—everyone watching—she was—Diggory—I was--"

Ginny frowned. "She was . . . talking to Cedric Diggory with lots of people watching, alright . . . Who?"

"Fleur Delacour—that girl who's one of the Champions!" Ron groaned again, sinking even deeper into the chair stuffing.

"The one who doesn't appreciate Hogwarts, you mean?" Ginny asked dryly.

"Yeah, that's the one," Ron said vaguely. "Harry and I—we need dates—for the ball. I was—in the entrance hall—thinking about who I could ask—and she was talking to Diggory—and—and—I don't know what came over me—and I asked her!"

"Well," Ginny said, feeling her stomach twist even though she knew the answer, "what did she say?"

"Nothing," Ron grumbled, turning an even darker shade of maroon. "Just—_looked_ at me."

"Oh, Ron, I--" but it was perhaps a good thing the sound of a backpack hitting the floor brought her up short, as—torn between the desire to make him feel better and the desire to give in to sudden, hysterical laughter—she wasn't sure exactly what it was she was going to say.

"What's up, Ron?" Harry asked, sounding a bit dull and dejected.

Ron looked up at Harry, still with that oddly blank look of fear on his face. "Why did I do it? I don't know what made me do it!"

"What?" said Harry, sounding rather as Ginny had felt when she'd first approached Ron.

"He—er—just asked Fleur Delacour to go to the ball with him," Ginny said. She patted Ron's arm to let him know that she wasn't making fun of him, and that he had her sympathy, but she couldn't quite keep the spark of humor from her voice.

"You _what?_" Harry demanded. If he had noticed her amusement, he was doing a good job of ignoring it. _Always the oblivious_, Ginny reflected, not without affection.

"I don't know what made me do it!" Ron gasped. "What was I playing at? There were people—all around—I've gone mad—everyone watching! I was just walking past her in the entrance hall—she was standing there talking to Diggory—and it sort of came over me—and I asked her!" He buried his face in his hands, mumbling, "She looked at me like I was a sea slug or something. Didn't even answer. And then—I dunno—I just sort of came to my senses and ran for it."

"She's part veela," said Harry, shifting awkwardly on the balls of his feet, as if considering patting Ron's other shoulder, but afraid of how he would react. "You were right—her grandmother was one. It wasn't your fault, I bet you just walked past when she was turning on the old charm for Diggory and got a blast of it--"

Ginny looked up at him, her whole heart in her eyes for the space of a heartbeat as he continued, "—but she was wasting her time. He's going with Cho Chang."

Ron looked up, suddenly alert, but Ginny found herself suddenly looking at Ron's arm, noticing that his robes were decidedly faded against the bright upholstery of the arm chair as her heart fell to the soles of her shoes.

"I asked her to go with me just now," Harry said, in that same deadened tone he'd used earlier, "and she told me."

Ginny felt as if her whole body were being buried in disappointment.

"This is mad," Ron said flatly. "We're the only ones left who haven't got anyone—well, except Neville. Hey—guess who he asked! _Hermione_!"

Ginny wouldn't have expected Hermione was likely to tell Ron about Neville's invitation—and, belatedly, the amused expression on Ron's face filtered through the distorting veil of her disappointment. _Insensitive prat. I can't believe I worried about how you'd react to Krum—you deserve it, you thick git! _Ginny would have hexed him if only she could have moved.

"_What?" _Harry demanded, hardly more flattering. Though he did sound a bit less depressed about Cho. Caught between angry snarls and dejected sniffles, Ginny winced and glared in his direction.

"Yeah, I know!" Ron dissolved into laughter. "He told me after Potions! Said she's always been really nice, helping him out with work and stuff, but she told him she was already going with someone. Ha! As if! She just didn't want to go with Neville . . . I mean, who would?"

"Don't!" Ginny snapped, momentarily as cured of her disappointment as Ron was of his embarrassment. "Don't laugh--" _He's braver and smarter than you . . . at least he asked someone for more than her looks, and he did it before you, did . . . _Even Harry was chuckling.

Just then, Hermione climbed through the portrait hole.

"Why weren't you two at dinner?" she asked coming over to join them. _Hey! _Ginny thought, even more annoyed, _there are **three **of us here if you hadn't noticed! _

Ron and Harry didn't respond. They were too busy trying to stifle their continued chuckles in their sleeves. "Because—oh shut up laughing, you two—because they've both just been turned down by girls they asked to the ball!" Ginny said with a certain amount of satisfaction.

"Thanks a bunch, Ginny," Ron snapped, but he and Harry had both stopped laughing.

"All the good-looking ones taken, Ron?" Hermione demanded loftily. "Eloise Midgen starting to look quite pretty now, is she? Well, I'm sure you'll find someone _somewhere _who'll have you."

Ron was staring at Hermione as if thoroughly enlightened.

"Hermione, Neville's right—you _are _a girl . . ."

"Oh, well spotted," Hermione spat, in a way that made the far-distant Creevy brothers sit up and take notice.

"Well—you can come with one of us!"

"No, I can't!" Hermione might as well have been spitting fire.

"Oh, come on, we need partners. We're going to look really stupid if we haven't got any, and everyone else has . . ."

_Oh, and who's fault is that? You really are thicker than day-old porridge, and half as likeable –_Ginny snorted, and as usual, no one noticed.

"I can't come with you," Hermione said. _Oh, of course,_ Ginny thought wryly, _when she blushes, she turns a delicate shade of pink, how fetching. _Her own sigh was swamped in guilt, however, as Hermione continued, "Because I'm already going with someone."

"No, you're not! You just said that to get rid of Neville," Ron said confidently. Ginny's guilt evaporated. She was beginning to feel as if someone had force-fed her Madam Pomfrey's Pepper-up Potion again.

"Oh _did _I?" Hermione looked scarier than Mum at full-eruption. "Just because it's taken _you _three years to notice, Ron, doesn't mean no one _else_ has spotted I'm a girl!" _Well, at least she's not disappointed she didn't wait on him to ask her now,_ Ginny consoled herself.

Ron, unbelievably and rather offensively, was grinning. "Okay, okay, we know you're a girl. That do? Will you come now?"

"I've already told you!" Hermione looked near tears, and Ginny was guessing it wasn't because she was sad. "I'm going with someone else!"

"She's lying," Ron said as he watched her ricochet up the stairs to her dorm.

"She's not," Ginny said, very calmly. Too calmly, as Ron would have known if he was paying attention. Harry was looking quite pointedly at his trainers, as if he'd never seen them before.

"Who is it then?" Ron asked, suddenly looking like a fox alert to a potential invasion of his territory. Ginny only narrowly avoided rolling her eyes. "I'm not telling you." _Even though I'd like to see the look on your face when you found out, you disgusting, cement-brained excuse for a Weasley. _"It's her business," Ginny added resolutely.

"Right," Ron snapped, clearly disbelieving. "This is getting stupid. Ginny, _you_ can go with Harry, and I'll just--"

Harry's head had come up with a snap. It would have been comical, if it weren't so insulting.

"I can't--" Ginny said with new appreciation for just how uncomfortable Hermione had been feeling. _And even if I could, I'm not sure I would want to go with someone who couldn't even ask me himself . . . _but even as she thought it, she knew it was a lie. She'd have been glad to go with Harry, no matter how it had been arranged. And, somehow, she didn't doubt the clear emerald eyes suddenly fixed on her, unblinking, could see the truth in her face. She'd never imagined humiliation could feel so utterly complete. Her entire soul was on fire. "I'm going with—with Neville." _And if either of you laughs, I'll make sure you regret it. I don't know how, but I will. _

"He asked me when Hermione said no, and I thought . . . well. . . I'm not going to be able to go otherwise; I'm not in fourth year." Her stomach, sitting in the back of her throat, gave a sickening twist. She had to get out of there. And, somehow, she wasn't ready to face Hermione . . . nor did she think Hermione would be ready to face her. "I think I'll go and have dinner," she said, even though she had never felt less like eating in her entire life . . . not even during her soul-shredding first year.

She could feel Harry's eyes following her as she crawled through the portrait hole, and they broke her heart. Driven by the need to put some space between them, without any idea of whether she was headed toward the Great Hall or not, she was running before the Fat Lady had swung shut.


	48. An Unexpected Encounter

Disclaimer-If you like it, assume I don't own it. The Potterverse belongs to JKR, Steve Klowes, Scholastic and WB. Fanon belongs to the multitude. . .I'm simply paying homage. Most of this scene is from GoF by JK Rowling. No copyright infringement is intended, and no money is being made.

The character of Professor Auriga Sinistra as she appears here is the artistic masterpiece of She'sAStar, who was kind enough to lend her to me—to my endless gratitude!

Author's Notes—This chapter was inspired by _Lamentations of a Starry-Eyed Twit _by She'sAStar, and _Diaries of a Dungeon-Dwelling Moron _by Gedia Kacela. I highly recommend you read them. (You'll be able to understand the chapter without them, but they're highly entertaining, and well worth your time.)

Progress has been a lot slower in this work, but I hope you'll all stick with me anyway. As you all know, I may not own it, but I work hard, and I love it, so if you read it and enjoy it, please review it! Please don't print or post this elsewhere without my knowledge.

HBP—I'm still digesting. Good stuff, bad stuff, interesting stuff…and stuff I really wish I could have seen more of! Yup. Food for thought…and the GoF movie is on the way!

And—oh, yeah—I know there are a couple little things in previous stories I should adjust to be in canon, but its either revision or new posts...slow though they may be…

Yea—I appreciate your enthusiasm for the next—short!—installment of the story. Thanks. The chapters I post are intentionally short for 3 reasons: 1) it's easier to read when you have to sit in front of a computer monitor and scroll through the chapter without a break, 2) more frequent posts, and 3) yes, I have been really busy lately, thanks for asking.

Realfanficts— I'm glad you're so enthusiastic; thanks! I want to see the ball from Ginny's POV, too, but doing a good story justice takes time! In the good old days when novels were first coming into vogue, they were written as serials (similar to fanfiction posts), so I consider a month short compared to the 3-5 year wait for the next canon novel. Still, I feel for you—it is hard to be patient…which is why I started writing fics in the first place!

Rayny—Great! Glad to see you around! I appreciate the heads up that the last few chapters have been stiff. I'll try to soften them up if I ever have time…though I am very relieved to hear that the last one was more enjoyable for you! I think you bring up a good question about Ginny's reaction to Ron's attitude at the Ball…it's one I've mused over for a while myself. I guess we'll have to see if the answers we came up with are similar, though I kind of suspect they are. ;-)

JamieBell—No worries—I'm just glad to know you're still reading…I hope the long wait hasn't changed your mind! I agree that Ginny's heartache is very real, but is kind of nice to know that life will compensate later on…luckily, I think that's often true…too bad the person with the broken heart can never see that at the time! I agree that we hardly ever see Hermione's feelings from Harry's POV. I've always thought she was very self-contained. That's admirable, but I think it's also quite lonely. I'm not sure if Hermione and Ron's fight will make an appearance in this story or not, but I love that fight too—one of my fave HP moments! Thanks for the great review! _**hugs**_

Bill—My heart dropped too. Yup. Resilient. I think that sums it up quite well. This chapter may not tell all, but I think it might answer where Ginny went. I absolutely agree. Ginny doesn't have a complimentary opinion of Fleur, and she will most definitely have an interesting opinion of Fleur's future with Bill…but then Ginny has interesting opinions on most things.

Vixen519—I'm glad to hear your computer is back up…I'll keep an eye out for you online. ;-)

Arachnasloom—I couldn't have said it better myself. snickers Still…I think that may not have been the end of that particular discussion, even if Harry thought it was at the time. Ginny is a Weasley, and quite determined, after all…

J. Rhaye—I'm glad I met your expectations—that's something I'm always happy to hear!  I love the whole idea of Ginny disliking "Phlegm," and I can see it quite clearly in my head…and clearly so can you! **_winks_** Yes, the more outspoken side of Ginny in HBP was a bit of a shock, but we've always known Ginny had more opinions than she let on! You put Ginny's situation in the last chapter into words exactly. I have the same mixed feelings about moving on as you do…and I suspect Ginny probably will as well…hugs EEDOE—I still haven't the foggiest clue as to what turned Fleur's head to Weasley men…if only I did. coughs I think that was the defining moment myself…until then, she always believed that even if he wasn't ready to act on it, Harry knew that they were connected in some way…now she's seen that probably isn't the case. I don't know how I'd ever get anything done without your help! Thanks so much! **_hugs

* * *

_**

Ginny had no idea where she was going, no idea what she was doing, and no desire to think about either. If she did, there would be no way to avoid the full impact of how she felt. She wasn't ready to face that yet. She wasn't even sure she could, which was why she'd begun running.

"Well, if it isn't the girliest Weasley." The cold sneer made Ginny's steps falter. Pride denied a scream, but so did caution; she refused to give anyone the satisfaction nor the ammunition. She'd helped Tom thrive on her fear and her uncertainty once; she wouldn't give them to him—or anyone else—again, not if she could help it. Before the bone-deep resolution registered in her conscious thoughts, the familiar voice continued, "Dare I suspect you're up to no good?" and she realized it belonged not to Tom, but to the Potions Master, Severus Snape.

"I do hope you aren't taking after your brothers, prowling about making trouble at Potter's whim." Snape's silken hiss went through Ginny like a Basilisk strike, stiffening her spine with a poisonous resolve that made her chest burn.

"I wouldn't spit on Harry Potter if he were on fire," she said. Pain spread acidic and languorous, through her limbs so that her entire body throbbed red, but she looked Snape in the eye.

"Ah. There's no love lost between you and the resident rebel-hero, I see." Snape said, even more silkily.

"No," Ginny choked, the poison in her blood ebbing so suddenly she felt faint.

"That certainly is interesting," Snape said acerbically, "But perhaps you could tell me what--"

"What are you saying to the poor girl, Severus?" Ginny was amused—if taken aback—to see Snape twitch at the sound of a softly irate voice.

"Sinistra! Incompetent, starry-eyed twit though you may be, surely you remember that I—unlike you—am perfectly capable of handling students without interference!"

"Terrifying them into submission is _not_ the same as handling them, you great, greasy, insensitive, dungeon-dwelling moron!" normally mild-mannered Professor Sinistra recoiled (wrong word, because of the meaning to spring back. What about – struck back) without missing a beat. "Go get Hagrid to give you a good scrubbing, why don't you, and leave Miss Weasley alone. She clearly wanted to tell me she might have to miss tonight's lesson, as even a fume-blinded, hygienically-challenged git, like yourself, can see she looks about to faint!"

Snape's eyes flicked momentarily over Ginny's form, but he was already sneering, "Cause and effect all in one speech. Miss Weasley must be flattered indeed to inspire such wit, though I admit if I had to attend your lectures, I would be tempted to plead sick as well!"

"I'll have you know," Professor Sinistra said, pushing the wild, frizzy masses of auburn hair out of her flashing eyes, "Ginny takes my class twice a week, and I've never seen her looking so ill. No doubt she's sickened from standing downwind of you."

To Ginny's astonishment, Snape gave a low laugh. It seemed to throw Professor Sinistra off as well, which was probably why he had done it. "Funny, _Auriga_," he drawled, inching closer to her, Ginny all-but-forgotten. "I didn't hear you complaining about my stench when--"

Professor Sinistra whirled around toward a door Ginny hadn't previously noticed, but now recognized as the door to the staff lounge, "You're right, of course, _Severus_, let's discuss this over coffee, shall we?"

Professor Snape turned nearly as white as Ginny felt. "Now, Auriga, that's not really necessary--"

"Um," Ginny interjected hesitantly, "I'll just be going back to my dorm now, okay?"

Neither of them told her that it was okay, but neither of them told her she couldn't. Ginny backed slowly away.

The Gryffindor Common Room was packed when she returned. The twins were setting off Filibuster's Fireworks to applause from the Gryffindor Chasers, Angelina Johnson, Alicia Spinnet, and Katie Bell. Ron and Harry had apparently decided to relieve their feelings in a game of Exploding Snap with Neville. Tempest and Patricia were sitting with Lavendar Brown and Parvati Patil, giggling wildly over something Ginny could only hope was not her. Dean Thomas and Seamus Finnegan were practicing Seamus' spell to turn water into rum, with disastrous results. Colin and his brother, Denis, had ventured out from their corner and were darting back and forth, taking pictures of everything. None of them seemed to pay any attention to her slipping through the Fat Lady's Portrait, and Hermione was nowhere to be seen. Ginny didn't feel quite ready to discuss things with her anyway. So, torn between guilt and relief, she trudged up the stairs to the silent shadows of her dorm.

Flinging herself out on her bed, Ginny tried to distract herself with thoughts of the scene she had just witnessed in the corridor. She never would have thought that Snape would be afraid of Sinistra, but . . . if he wasn't afraid of her, why had he been so jumpy? It seemed kind of strange that they'd start arguing for no reason that she could see, too—unless they'd been arguing in the staffroom before Snape had come out and run into Ginny? But if that were the case, what had they been arguing about? Though she might normally have found such questions fascinating, at the moment, Ginny couldn't have cared less.

Eventually, she took up the book, _Mansfield Park_, hoping it would offer the distraction Snape and Sinistra couldn't seem to give, but after several minutes of trying to involve herself in Fanny's joy over her cousin Edmund's thoughtful gift, Ginny was feeling more jealous than comforted. She tossed the book aside with a fretful sigh, and tried to empty her mind the way she'd begun to learn in her study of Occulumency. She felt empty; she was completely unaware of any thoughts, any feelings, _anything_, but instead of feeling calm, at peace, tingling with magic all she felt was . . . empty.

She was vaguely aware of her dorm-mates coming in, noisy at first and then making a very ineffectual effort to be quiet as to not wake her. Ginny let the murmur of their voices crash over her like the tide, and wash back away, carrying her with it, toward sleep.


	49. The Ginny and Hermione Liberation Front

Disclaimer-If you like it, assume I don't own it. The Potterverse belongs to JKR, Steve Klowes, Scholastic and WB. Fanon belongs to the multitude. . .I'm simply paying homage. Most of this scene is from GoF by JK Rowling. No copyright infringement is intended, and no money is being made.

The character of Professor Auriga Sinistra as she appears here is the artistic masterpiece of She'sAStar, who was kind enough to lend her to me—to my endless gratitude!

Author's Notes—This chapter was inspired by _Lamentations of a Starry-Eyed Twit _by She'sAStar, and _Diaries of a Dungeon-Dwelling Moron _by Gedia Kacela. I highly recommend you read them. (You'll be able to understand the chapter without them, but they're highly entertaining, and well worth your time.)

Progress has been a lot slower in this work, but I hope you'll all stick with me anyway. As you all know, I may not own it, but I work hard, and I love it, so if you read it and enjoy it, please review it! Please don't print or post this elsewhere without my knowledge.

HBP—I'm still digesting. Good stuff, bad stuff, interesting stuff…and stuff I really wish I could have seen more of! Yup. Food for thought…and the GoF movie is on the way!

And—oh, yeah—I know there are a couple little things in previous stories I should adjust to be in canon, but its either revision or new posts...slow though they may be…

ArachnasLoom-Your question about the next chapter came just as I was wondering if anyone would even notice it when I finally got around to posting…I hate the delay in the chapters, too, but such is life. I hope the next chapter will come a lot faster, but no promises. **grins sheepishly and sighs **Anyway, I hope you keep reading!

Rayny- _Lamentations_ ROCKS! I can't get enough of Snape and Sinistra, either. ;-) Isn't it interesting that—as Ginny is finding out—even when magic exists there are no easy spells to make life easy? On the other hand, as painful as all that teenage angst is, it's weird how the experiences enrich us for all the rest of our lives…I hope Ginny will discover that as well. **coughs**

J. Rhaye—She's a Star is responsible for the interesting additions to Snape's character, but she was nice enough to let me borrow them. There is definitely more there than meets the eye, I highly recommend the fics that inspired that little scene. ;-) As for heartbreak, I always remember how L.M. Montgomery's Anne series (and interestingly, many people-myself included-think Ginny has much in common with Anne) described Anne as experiencing the highs and lows of life with far more intensity than most other people, but while the lows might be crushing, the highs were far more than an equal compensation. ;-) Thanks for the encouragement! Hope this chapter lives up to your vote of confidence! **HUGS**

EEDOE-Thanks for your support, your input, and your presence in my life, without which I would be much the poorer. **hugs

* * *

**

Ginny tried to hide in sleep long after she'd woke, but eventually had to heave a sigh of defeat and roll out of bed. She pulled on a plain, gray pleated school skirt, grabbed the sweater and blouse closest to the top of her trunk, unwadded the robe she'd discarded the night before, and donned it like a drop cloth. She gave her hair a few cursory strokes of the brush and pulled it into two of the most tattered braids she'd ever produced without any awareness of either the mirror or of her reflection in it, in spite of several offended _harrumphs_ issuing from that direction.

Gritty-eyed and morose, she slunk down the back stairs toward the kitchen where she could continue licking over her wounds in peace—the house-elves would fawn over her, but their concern would be nothing more personal than what she wanted for breakfast, a prospect that actually sounded quite comforting.

"—be able to serve them better if you're given the rights you—Ginny!" Hermione looked as if she couldn't decide whether she was happy or uncomfortable, and had merely ended up settling on sheepish. Ginny knew how she felt.

"Oh. Um. Hi, Hermione," she said, rather inadequately, she thought.

The house-elves bustled about, filling it a long pausewith crème puffs, pasties, eggs, and tea.

For a while, Ginny and Hermione could focus on the food and not one another. Somehow, Ginny found herself hungrier than she'd thought anyone with a broken heart could be, and Hermione didn't seem to be a slouch in that department either.

"So…you're still talking to me, then?" Ginny ventured, fiddling with the last biscuit on the plate.

"What are you going on about?" Hermione asked, looking surprised.

"Well," Ginny began awkwardly, "Ron--"

"Oh, forget Ron—Ron's a prat!" Hermione interjected in a huff. "Listen, Ginny, you were right. We shouldn't sit around waiting for Ron and Harry to notice us. But you were wrong."

Ginny blinked. Now she understood how Gilderoy Lockhart had felt after his memory charm backfired. "Hermione, that makes absolutely no sen--"

Hermione, however, hadn't waited for the obvious response. "I mean," she continued, waving her arms expansively, nearly taking out a passing house-elf in the process, "maybe it _is _our fault they haven't noticed us—let alone the fact that we're girls--" Here she relieved her feelings by accompanying admission with an offended snort—"Because we haven't forced them to. Look at the types of girls they _do _notice. Cho Chang. _Fleur_--" Another even more violent snort made the name somewhat incoherent—"_Delacour_. Girls who _aren't_ sitting around waiting for boys like Harry and Ron to notice their good qualities; on the contrary, girls so outgoing and confident their _qualities_—even if they aren't that great—demand to be noticed. Girls who have been noticed by other boys and who aren't afraid to enjoy the attention--" by now, Hermione was so out of breath she was forced to break off.

"Hermione," Ginny said miserably, "you and I don't _want _to be like Fleur Delacour or Cho Chang. And even if we _did_…I just don't think we could be."

"And thank Merlin for that!" Hermione retorted fervently.

Ginny grinned wryly. "But, then, what--"

"I'm just suggesting that we stop waiting," Hermione explained with a sigh. "If other boys ask us out, let's go and have a good time, and enjoy what we've got—like Cho and Fleur do. Let's quit worrying about how to impress Harry and Ron, and just relax and be ourselves. Maybe if they get to see what we're really like, they'll start to appreciate us. If not, it really _will _be their fault if they haven't noticed us—and at least we'll already be having fun."

"Somehow I just don't think it will be that easy," Ginny said wistfully.

"Do you have any better ideas?" demanded Hermione.

"No, not really."

"Well?" Hermione crossed her arms and glared, looking unnervingly like McGonagall about to tell off some unlucky student.

"You have a point," Ginny grudgingly admitted. A few days ago she'd wanted to keep talking to Harry, but she'd been too afraid of making a mistake. But—if Hermione's new theory was to be believed—she had nothing to lose even if she _did_ make a mistake, and she might have everything to gain.

On the other hand, if she started hanging out with Harry and Ron whenever she felt like it, instead of waiting for an invitation that never came, she might have to hear Harry admire Cho Chang. "Not that it's going to be easy."

"Let's go see Hagrid," Hermione said by way of non-response. "I want to know if he's taken my advice for asking Madam Maxime to the Yule Ball yet."

"He asked your advice?" Ginny asked, wondering if she ought to feel a bit offended that he hadn't wanted her opinion as well.

"Um, well…" Hermione said, which was answer enough. Ginny grinned.

"Say, Hermione," she said, suddenly remembering something as they left the kitchens, "Guess what happened last night."

"Ron choked on his own tongue when Fleur came in to dinner," Hermione said promptly.

Ginny exploded into snickers of wild—and amused—surprise that quickly became awkward sputters of guilt. "Um…not exactly." She coughed, and proceeded to recount her odd encounter with Professor Sinistra and Snape.

"What do you suppose that was about?" Hermione mused

Ginny shrugged, and waved at Hagrid as she caught sight of him through his window, bouncing up and down on the balls of her feet, as much to keep warm, as to catch his attention. He didn't seem to notice, but, then, she thought that might just be her fate. Ginny sighed.

"Well, then, jes' don' stand there," Hagrid boomed. "Come in, come in."

As it turned out, this was a rather tricky feat to perform, as most of the hut was already taken up with Hagrid, though he tried to stand out of the way behind the door, and Madam Maxime, who was seated quite regally in Hagrid's usual arm chair, sipping tea.

"Oh, we didn't realize you had company," Hermione said, sounding somewhat taken aback. "We can—we'll just come back later then."

"No, no, don' be silly," Hagrid objected. "We haven' had a chat in a long bit. Have a seat—like some tea?"

All in all, the impromptu party wasn't nearly as uncomfortable as Ginny had expected. Madam Maxime had a knack for charades that was quite unexpected, and Hagrid's booming laugh never seemed to stop shaking the hut. It was a bit unsettling, but in a way that insured Ginny left with a happy glow on her face, a glow that even the cold walk back to the castle couldn't displace.

And, as she and Hermione ducked into the warmth of the castle, they found it was looking a lot like Christmas.


	50. Waking Up to Smell the Obvious

Disclaimer-If you like it, assume I don't own it. The Potterverse belongs to JKR, Steve Klowes, Scholastic and WB. Fanon belongs to the multitude. . .I'm simply paying homage. Most of this scene is from GoF by JK Rowling. No copyright infringement is intended, and no money is being made. Progress has been a lot slower in this work, but I hope you'll all stick with me anyway. As you all know, I may not own it, but I work hard, and I love it, so if you read it and enjoy it, please review it! Please don't print or post this elsewhere without my knowledge. And—oh, yeah—I know there are a couple little things in previous stories I should adjust to be in canon, but I kind of like some of the discrepancies, and as far as the rest go, it's either revision or new posts...slow though they may be…

General Readers—Major apologies for the very long delay. I've really missed you all. I hope you find this chapter, let alone enjoy it…I'll TRY to have another chapter out again soon, but no promises…my muse is very capricious!

EEODOE—Sorry for posting this before you could beta! I was so happy to finally have time to write a chapter that I got carried away! Hope you have fun on vacay, and fun reading this and future chapters when you get back!hugs

realfanficts—I totally agree…but it's always hard for any woman to come to that conclusion when it's her heart on the line…the more so as a young teenager! Hope you enjoy this chapter, too…late as it is!

Arachnasloom—Hope you enjoy the new chapter. Thanks for the advice about the twins dialogue...I've tweaked it a bit...I hope that makes it less confusing:-)

moony's number 1—Thanks…I really enjoy writing those parts, too, I think its some of my best work! J

Raiining—I know…I really think they should have invited us just so we could see Madam Maxime playing charades…I wouldn't mind be invited to participate in the events of this chapter, either. ;-)

* * *

The next morning, surfeited on coffee and sausage biscuits, Ginny pounced on Bion and Luna as they passed the Gryffindor table on their way out of the room. Leaving Hermione to deal with Ron and Harry, Ginny accompanied her Ravenclaw friends into the atrium where Professor Flitwick was stringing colored bubbles from his wand along the banister of the main stair, a process that riveted Luna's attention. With her own special knack, Luna somehow convinced Professor Flitwick to teach them the trick, even before Ginny, Bion, or the Professor himself had fully realized she was even going to ask him. 

It took a while to master the nuances of the technique, but the attempts were more funny than frustrating, and they had a good time practicing until they were sufficiently skilled to decorate what seemed like thousands of staircases with various applications. Bion liked the stair twined with large midnight blue and tiny bronze bubbles like night stars just peeking through the clouds, while Luna's enthusiasm seemed most focused when they did a stair wreathed in rose and green like fairy lights, but Ginny's favorite stair was draped in a delicate froth of silver bubbles like wisps of frozen dew dripping, rising, and pooling in a whimsical dance about the banister. They were all agreed, however, in thinking it was time for lunch.

The Ravenclaws made room at their table for Ginny to eat lunch there with Luna and Bion. This afforded a prime opportunity for Bion and to discuss Quidditch with Roger Davies, and hear his commentary on all the latest score results reported by The Daily Prophet. Unfortunately, it also left them—or left Ginny at least —little choice but to notice Cho Chang and Marianna Edgecomb whispering to each other and giggling wildly. Ginny did her best to ignore them, not to mention avoid speculating on what they were talking about, but it was nearly enough to put her off her food all the same.

All-in-all she was grateful to escape to the shed at the edge of the Quidditch Pitch. She, Luna, and Bion found the two Creevys already there, rummaging sleds they all put to excellent use on a snowy slope running between the castle and Hagrid's hut. This kept them happily occupied until it was nearly too dark to see where the sled was actually going, and they might simply have cast lumos or conjured up some bluebell flames and kept going, but Professor Sprout happened to come out to the greenhouses in search of something and catch sight of them, forcing them to give up and go inside to dinner instead.

Ginny had eaten lunch with the Ravenclaws, so Bion and Luna ate dinner with the Gryffindors, an event which inspired Fred and George to dazzling new duos that kept everyone else so helplessly fixed in laughter that the twins got the lionshare of their dinner.

"Always leave 'em laughing," Fred advised Ginny in a mock-whisper as George finished off the last of the slightly illicit spoils, seized Ginny, swinging her up onto his back. Laughing, she waved to Bion and Luna, who waved back as George carried her away on piggyback.

In Gryffindor House everyone sat around the fire, toasting marshmallows, drinking hot chocolate, and having quite a heated discussion about Quidditch, which culminated in Fred and George confiscating every figurine of the major world cup players they could find and enchanting them—rather like chess pieces— in order to reenact the game. They had just finished reenacting Krum's magnificent dive to thunderous applause when Professor McGonagall appeared in her tartan dressing robe and nightcap and demanded that they all go to bed immediately before she made them all serve detention instead of attending the Yule Ball. Ginny thought she saw a gleam of consideration in Ron's eye, but Fred and George, usually the first to encourage the purveyance of mischief were already bundling him up the stairs before she could be sure. Grinning at this uncharacteristic moment of sobriety, Ginny allowed an equally determined Tempest to herd her off to bed in much the same manner.

Still dreaming of soaring high above the Quidditch Cup stadium, Ginny rolled over and nestled deeper beneath the heavy red coverlet. Or attempted to do so, at any rate. She awoke with a start, her heart thumping heavily in chest, her eyes darting around in search of the reason she couldn't move…in search of Tom.

Bit by bit, her surroundings emerged, taking shape from the shadows. The familiar red draperies, the similar but unique hunched forms of each girl's trunk at the foot of each bed, pitchers of cool water on the low beside tables beckoning with a soothing, dewy gleam. Her panic subsided, but her feet remained firmly trapped. Craning her neck around and lifting herself a little off the bed, Ginny realized something large and lumpy had been laid across her feet, weighing them down. Confused, she stretched her fingers out toward her toes, and felt them bump against the object. It was thick and warm as velvet…and, with a jolt, she realized it was velvet…a velvet sack full of gifts.

Laughing in a slightly breathless way that owed something to left-over nerves, she wriggled and contorted her way free of the bag, and, crawling to the end of the bed, wrestled the bag off of her bed. "Oo-oh—oops," she gasped as several grunting sighs from the direction of Patricia's bed reproached her with her roommates' presence. Listing sideways in every attempt to redistribute its weight as well as in every attempt to make sure its odd edges didn't bump anything, Ginny crept slowly out of her dorm.

She managed—not without great effort—to muscle the recalcitrant sack up the stair to the 6th year boys' dormitory, at which point she abandoned it in happy relief. Her eyes had already adjusted to the dark, but she probably would have been able to make out the candle-orange glow of her brothers' twin heads lighting the two beds at the far end of the room. And, scrunching her nose to narrow her eyes—the ability of which expression to boost observational acuity still remained a mystery…but a useful fact, nonetheless—she easily identified the straggly starburst of Lee's dreadlocks arrayed over his pillow, a sight that made her beam unaccountably.

Casting caution to the wind, Ginny leapt. And, just as she'd trusted him to, Lee caught her. Much to his own surprise and chagrin.

She landed on his chest, knocking the wind out of him. Jolted awake, Lee's arms instinctively came up and wrapped around the unexpected object that had hit him. Split seconds later, his eyes opened, and then blinked several times in quick succession. "Wha—ho—I—that is—wha—Gin—"

Somehow, those words—not even words, really, only fragments—made her feel better than hours of talking ever could. That, and the look—of both sleepy confusion and happily amused horror—on Lee's face.

Ginny laughed…a clear, bubbly stream of temporarily rediscovered youth and mischief and delight…and uncomplicated fraternal love. Lee, being Lee, stopped sputtering and grinned, a deep, broad, true grin, as warm and as steady and as reassuring as the sun. Ginny laughed harder…for once, she didn't even imagine how Tom would wither in the light of that grin...Tom, a pale white creature of darkness, had never really liked the sun. Ginny did. Lee's grin almost immediately simmered into a laugh accompanying her own.

And almost as immediately paused when Fred muttered something under his breath and turned over, his splayed arms hitting his mattress with a heavy thump. "Gin…what…are you…doing…" Lee gasped out between stifled snickers. "You aren't…supposed to…" he paused and titled his head, temporarily distracted by his interest in accomplishing the unexpected, "come to think of it, how, did you—"

George made a sound composed of equal parts, snort snore, and dragon's roar. Lee jumped, and looked guiltily around, which made Ginny start laughing all over again. "Shh…" Lee implored, laying his fingers lightly over her lips, and widening his eyes to a most impressive extent. "Are you trying to get me killed?"

Still laughing, Ginny shook her head helpless, and made a half-hearted attempt to smother the sound, and only succeeded in sounding as though she were being choked.

Lee groaned.

"Jor'an!" George ordered, obviously still more asleep than awake. "Quiet!"

"Tryin' t'leep," Fred added in a mumble that somehow managed to sound emphatic.

Lee lowered his head and tried to talk through his teeth, as if that would help. "Do you have any idea what your brothers are goi—"

"Lee—Wha—Gin—Jordan! Hands off my sister!"

Lee jumped again, turning to look in the twins' direction, "Fred, it's not—ooomph!!" The pillow Fred had sat up to launch in protest of the noise, and immediately forgotten as he'd become conscious of the scene in front of him, hit Lee squarely in the face, knocking him—and Ginny—back into bed.

"Oh, honestly," Ginny said dryly, looking up at the faces that suddenly framed her—and Lee—"Lee was asleep. He didn't do anything. I snuck into the dorm—"

"And why," George asked dangerously, "might you want to do that, little sister?"

Ginny rolled her eyes. "Because," she said, trying to sit up, only to discover that her hair had somehow gotten tangled around Lee's arm when he'd fallen, "Oooww! I wanted to wish you Happy Christmas, you ridiculous, gnome-headed, pixie-brained, dragon-hearted, loveable dolts." She pointed—a somewhat difficult prospect when forced to lie down—at the sack in the doorway.

Fred and George just barely flicked a glance in its direction, but Ginny could tell they were suddenly trying very hard not to laugh. Their dormmates looked at one another, gave a sort of collective shrug and a sigh, probably thankful it wasn't anything worse, and began to drift off in their own various directions. "If you wanted to talk to us—"

"Then what in Merlin's dankest depths were you doing in bed with Lee?"

"Isn't it obvious?" Ginny retorted as Lee, having finally managed to sort out the tangle of his limbs, her limbs, and the bedclothes enough to move, sat up and reached over to help her up.

Quick as a lightning strike, Fred reached out and grabbed her before Lee could, shooting him a look that, only being cold enough to flash freeze a salamander where it stood, was considerably friendlier than might have been expected. Ginny felt Lee relax slightly next to her, and knew he'd noticed too. And Fred hadn't snatched her out of the bed, only helped her sit up, which was an even better sign.

"Isn't what obvious?" George asked, almost conversationally, as he inspected his wand.

"That Lee is one of us." Ginny said. Fred and George exchanged a look.

"Oh," said George. "That," said Fred. They grinned.

"We've always thought so," George admitted.

"But we didn't know you did," added Fred. "After all, you two—"

"Barely know each other," George finished.

Lee's coffee-coloured eyes matched Ginny's tea-coloured ones as naturally as Fred's sea-colored eyes had met George's identical blue-grey-green eyes. "Isn't it obvious?"

"Isn't what obvious?" Fred asked impatiently, even as Ginny nodded. "As obvious as a shoe full of dungbombs, wouldn't you say?"

"Oh, I would," Lee agreed fervently, but with a very broad grin. "I would say."

"Then say!" George said, clearly confused.

"A…shoe…full of dungbombs," Fred repeated very slowly. "Hang on a mo…are you saying _Ginny_ helped you—"

George poked him in the ribs with his elbow, "You were there—"

Fred poked back. "Not Malfoy. Our shoes. Fourth year."

George blinked. "_Are_ you saying Ginny helped you?"

"No," Lee said, rumpling Ginny's hair with affectionate pride.

"Oh, no, she didn't," George murmured. But he and Fred were both shaking their heads with a pride very similar to Lee's, if quite a bit more rueful.

"You little…._Gingersnap_," Fred breathed.

"But if you didn't help her—" began George. "Then how did you know she did it?" finished Fred.

"I figured it out," Lee said dryly.

"Within a few days," Ginny confirmed cheerfully. "And he's been teaching me to make mischief ever since."

"When she wasn't teaching me, that is," Lee amended, and winked at her.

"Well, I'll be…we've been had," Fred said, sounding stunned.

"By a chip off the old Weasley," George agreed, shaking his head.

"And a Jordan," Lee reminded him, and ducked as another pillow hurtled itself off of George's bed and at his head. "Not good at charms, my blooming arse! You lie, Weasley, you lie!"

"I don't know if this is better or worse than what it looked like," Fred grumbled.

"Why didn't you tell us?" asked George.

Instead of answering directly, Lee looked at Ginny and sighed. "You know," he said conversationally, "it's going to be harder than pulling hen's teeth to put one over on them now…I'm really going to miss seeing them get a dose of their own medicine."

"We needed a challenge," Ginny informed him.

"You know—" George mused.

"This could mean war," Fred warned. "Or…it could mean we'll just have to keep you busy helping us—"

"—so you don't have time to hurt us," George concluded. They gave a simultaneous adamant nod.

"Enough business for the present" George allowed.

"We have presents—" observed Fred.

"—that must be opened, wouldn't you say?" continued George.

"Oh, I would. I would say." Fred agreed with a smirk.

"After you," George bowed.

"Oh, no…after you," bowed Fred…narrowly avoiding being bowled over by the sack of presents Ginny had left in the doorway as it whizzed by, and landed neatly at her feet. Ginny raised her eyebrows in droll reply to their twin gaping expressions, and calmly tucked her wand back into her pajama top pocket.

"Maybe pulling hen's teeth isn't as hard as I thought, ey?" Lee crowed.

Ginny looked over at him and winked. "Shut up and open your presents," she advised.


	51. Christmas Comes But Once a Year

Disclaimer-If you like it, assume I don't own it. The Potterverse belongs to JKR, Steve Klowes, Scholastic and WB. Fanon belongs to the multitude. . .I'm simply paying homage. Most of this scene is from GoF by JK Rowling. No copyright infringement is intended, and no money is being made. Progress has been a lot slower in this work, but I hope you'll all stick with me anyway. As you all know, I may not own it, but I work hard, and I love it, so if you read it and enjoy it, please review it! Please don't print or post this elsewhere without my knowledge. And—oh, yeah—I know there are a couple little things in previous stories I should adjust to be in canon, but I kind of like some of the discrepancies, and as far as the rest go, it's either revision or new posts...slow though they may be…

* * *

Lee didn't have to be ordered twice. He'd dived into the sack at the foot of his bed almost before she'd finished speaking. Ginny shook her head, crossed her arms, and said "_Boys!_" in such near-perfect imitation of Hermione that the twins both stopped--hands frozen in the process of reaching for their own sacks--and gaped.

"Whoa, Gin, that's a bit creepy," Fred said, sounding impressed.

Ginny poked Lee in the ribs, producing a sound somewhere between a squeal and a giggle. "Open mine first," she demanded.

" 'sbit harb 'o 'ell wha's from 'ou in 'ere," Lee protested.

"Your point being?" Ginny inquired coolly, shooting looks at Fred and George, each of whom hastily discarded the packages they were holding and reached back into their sacks.

When Lee emerged from his sack clutching the appropriate package and tore away the red and green paper to reveal a particularly handsome bottle of Sneezing Sand, draped with a long chain of Fizzing Whizzbees and Belching Bites, they stopped wasting time and tore into their gifts with enthusiasm.

Fred set aside the package of Filibuster's Fabulous Fabulous Wet-Start, No-Heat Fireworks with the briefest of appreciative glances, and poked a skeptical forefinger at the the long lavendar filament coil encased in bright red glass with a disk that affixed to the wall at one end and a flaring shape like Lee's Quidditch megaphone at the other. "An anti-burglar buzzer? What...am I supposed to put this on my trunk so you can't steal my socks?"

"What _are_ you nattering on about?" Ginny asked, raising her eyebrows.

"See here, Missy, George and I invented that look--" Fred broke off suddenly, catching sight of what was nestled in the paper beneath the box of dungbombs George was holding. "Is that--"

Following his gaze, George wrenched it free, nearly hitting himself on the nose in the process, and held it at arm's length for them all to see. Lee whistled softly.

Minutes ticked by.

"I know you don't have a shop yet, but...I thought...Don't...don't you...like it?" She asked finally.

The twins looked at her with identical expressions of shock in their suddenly shiny eyes. "Do we _like_ it? Pfft. Oh, go on with you," George said.

Fred reached out very hesitantly, as if afraid the black wrought-iron might bite him, and traced a finger down the three stacked Ws that formed the shingle's inside edge.

Without warning, Ginny--and Lee for good measure--were engulfed in the most bone-crushing hug the twins had ever performed, and very nearly deafened by their shouted chant of "WEASELY'S WIZARDING WHEEZES!"

Ginny had hoped the twins would be happy, but she had never expected them to react like this. If the rest of her family and friends were only the merest fraction as pleased with her gifts to them, Ginny would be more than satisfied.

"Your turn, Gin," Lee said when the twins finally let them up for air.

George Summoned her sack from the doorway, pulled out a gift and presented it to her with a bow. Ginny rolled her eyes and snatched the gift, which turned out to be an extra large box of Sugar Quills from Bion. And then they were caught up in a flurry of wrapping paper. Ginny had added an amulet made from what appeared to be a gilt green onion (Luna's note mentioned it was supposed to be an effective protection against Gulping Plimpies, though it didn't explain what those were, or why Ginny might, in fact, want to ward them off), copy of the _Monster Book of Monsters _from Hagrid, a box filled with ton-tongue toffees and canary creams from Fred and George, and a huge bar of Honeyduke's chocolate from Ron to her growing stack of goodies, when she happened to pause and look up. George wearing a blue sweater emblazoned with a large F while Fred was wearing an identical sweater emblazoned with a large G. She began to laugh.

Lee looked up, too, and grinned. "They know they're called Gred and Forge," he informed her conversationally. "But it sure is nice of your Mum to remind the rest of us."

Ginny laughed harder, at which Fred caught her eye and winked. "Go on, then," George ordered. "Open yours and put it on like a good Weasley."

Pretending to cower away from the twins, Ginny reached for the large package that could only have coming bearing gifts from Burrow. This year's sweater was a soft and fluffy snow white v-neck that made Ginny sigh with pleasure. Fred and George goggled. Ginny made a motion that might have been a shrug in their direction and pulled it on over her threadbare gold-and-pink paisley pajama top. Mum had also included another bottle of lavendar water and a large tin of particularly gooey brownies studded with amber pecans. Ginny closed her eyes and floated in a sea of contentment...until Lee accidentally tickled her nose with the tip of the new Peacock Feather Quill his Aunt Eunice had sent.

Still sneezing a bit, Ginny resumed sorting through the contents of the package. Dad, surprisingly, had given Muggle gifts a miss and sent her a lovely new telescope instead. Well, perhaps not completely new, but also perhaps more beautiful for the idea that a love of the stars was the polish that had been rubbed into it by the hands of past generations. The wood did have such a nice, warm glow, and the focus was much sharper than any telescope previously owned by their family, not to mention adjustable to a most extraordinary degree. Ginny clutched it to her chest in a way that Fred, George, and even Lee immediately imitated. She stuck her tongue out at them, gave the telescope one last ecstatic carress, and set it carefully aside.

She'd gotten, predictably enough, a cauldron-bottom gauge from Percy. Catching sight of her staring at it in disbelief, the twins raised theirs to her in mock salute. Ginny rolled her eyes...but she raised hers too. The twins whooped.

It looked as though Bill might have sent a blanket. Ginny picked it up to admire the color--a pale but mellow, glowing old gold, exactly the shade of Egyptian sands--and gasped at the feel of it sliding through her fingers. It very, very soft and impossibly fine; the very airiest of cottons. A rather unlikely blanket. The length of golden-sand cotton unfurled like a rose opening in the sun, flowing from top to bottom with only the slightest hints of draping to create ripples. It dipped slightly along the top edge, in a way reminiscent of the neckline in a pair of robes, particularly robes like those Ginny had recently seen illustrated in the chapters of _A History of Magic_ that discussed the very ancient witches Aphrodite, Athene, and Diana. Ginny gulped.

Standing up, she held the length of fabric out in front of her and surveyed it. It didn't just _look_ like a pair of dress robes...it _was _a pair of dress robes. And not just any pair of passable second-hand dress robes, either, but a brand-new and quite gorgeous set of dress robes. The long, flowing sheath with the draped neckline ended in a filagreed silver medallion at the top of each shoulder. The robes had long, floaty sleeves, but there were narrow, fluttery slits extending from the medallions and along the top length of each. A narrow silver chain--so fine it was almost silky--wrapped around the torso, crossed itself in a kind of x at the waist, and wrapped around the torso again just above where her hips would be, the ends spilling spilling the skirt like streams of silky rain. Ginny felt faint.

"Look," Fred said helpfully, "he's attached a note." He tugged the scrap of parchment loose and cleared his throat.

George began to read in an important-sounding tone of voice.

"Ginny,

I'm sure your charmed school robes look great, but I thought you might like to wear these instead and save yourself some time.

Christmas comes but once a year after all...be sure you hit both the twins with a snowball from me--HEY!"

Fred and George crossed their arms, doing their best to look mortally offended, and failing miserably. Lee, leaning so that he was all but falling off the bed, continued where George had left off reading.

"Don't worry about freezing, either, the robes have a basic temperature charm that should keep you cozy.

Love, Bill.

P. S. Charlie's sent shoes. Cheers! "

Charlie had indeed sent shoes, a simple set of narrow silver slippers with pale golden beading in a pattern that matched the medallions on the gown.

"I...I...I have to go and show Hermione!" Ginny gabbled wildly. The three boys regarded her with a mix of indulgent affection and amused incomprehension.

"Snowball fight after breakfast!," Lee reminded her.

Ginny, having swept unwrapped and wrapped gifts alike back into her velvet sack, fluttered a vague hand back over her shoulder in reply, and kept going.


	52. Two Butterflies

Disclaimer—If you like it, assume I don't own it. The HP universe and all its inhabitants (minus Bion) belong to JK Rowling, Steve Kloves, Scholastic, WB, and etc…not to me. Most scenes also belong to the aforementioned. No copy infringement is intended, and no money is being made. Progress is a lot slower in this work, but I hope you'll stick with me anyway. My gratitude to all of the readers who have stuck with me and encouraged me up to this point. As you know, I may not own it, but I work hard, and I love it, so please don't post this elsewhere without my knowledge. I know there are discrepancies, but for now I like them and prefer to write new scenes instead of revising old ones.

Finally, it is no fault of my awesome and beloved beta reader if there are mistakes in this chapter. I was so happy to have completed it, I posted it before sending it to her.

* * *

By the time Ginny and Hermione managed to tear themselves away from admiring Ginny's new dress robes, breakfast had already been cleared away. With the forethought people never seemed to expect of them--in spite of all evidence to the contrary--Fred and George had anticipated this might happen, and, as the girls stepped into the Common Room, each twin put his arm around one of them.

Being herded out of the Portrait Hole and down countless flights of stairs--particularly with Lee skipping along behind, draping you with hats and scarves in a most distracting manner, his merry caroling a counterpoint to Ron's loud inquiries as to where Hermione had been and whatever could have taken her so long--made it a bit of a challenge to get your bearings, but, having some experience in dealing with the twins, Ginny not only realized Fred was sticking his hand in her ribs to get her attention, but even managed to glance down. For which effort, she was generously rewarded. "Coffee!" she shouted happily, seizing the mug--which was, luckily enough, charmed not to spill.

Surfeited properly on coffee, sweet rolls, and muffins, they emerged into the dazzle of snow and sunlight. With a wave of her wand, Hermione conscientiously banished the dishes, returning them to the kitchens, before settling somewhat primly onto a slightly uplifted tree root more or less clear of snow, and opening _Vanquishing Veela _across her knees. The twins exchanged looks in a kind of mental shrug, and when Ron would have asked her what she was doing, a snowball hit him in the face, filling his mouth with snow.

As Ginny dashed by a couple of hours and several hundred snowballs later, Hermione caught her, thrusting an arm under her nose so she could see the hand on Hermione's watch pointing to _Time to Get Ready_. Tingling with cold, and glowing with joy and exercise, Ginny headed for the castle, tossing a wave over her shoulder to the boys. "How quickly they grow up," George said, pretending to wipe a tear from his eyes.

Beneath her nervous excitement, Ginny was still a bit hurt at Ron's casual assumption she and Hermione wouldn't mind being consolation prizes to himself and Harry, even more hurt by her own awareness that part of her--a rather large part--wouldn't have minded, and sad not only that Harry hadn't asked her to the dance before asking anyone else, but that he hadn't thought to ask her at all...and she didn't think she could bear the giggly, gossipy circus that was certain to be the fourth-year girls' dorm asking her about them. Particularly with Parvati--Harry's date, _and_ a girl he had thought to ask on his own!--there. Without asking, she knew Hermione felt much the same, and the two of them made their way to Ginny's third-year dorm instead. Since none of her roommates were going to the Ball, the room was, thankfully, deserted. And without other girls there to ask awkward questions, Ginny and Hermione found it easy enough to let themselves be distracted from their disappointments and enjoy their preparations.

"Tonight, I don't want to let…anyone…get to me," Hermione said, her mouth pulled into the firm, resolute line that made her resemble Professor McGongall. I want to show…everyone…who makes snide comments about 'bushy-haired freaks' or 'looking a bit of a mess' that I can be as cool, classy, and smooth as marble…so…" She produced a large round bottle with an intimidating iron stopper.

Ginny pulled her head and squinted to read the label. "Sleakeasy?"

"It's a hair-straightening potion," Hermione explained. "I'm going to put my hair in a French Twist..." She hesitated, looking a bit anxious. "That is…if you don't mind helping me?"

Ginny snatched the bottle out of her hand. "Just sit on the floor in front of the bed already. I'll need leverage if I'm going to comb this through your hair."

Ginny's arm was on fire by the time she'd finished, but every time Hermione had opened her mouth to apologize, Ginny put her hand over it. "Oh, shut up and look at yourself, already," she said at last, "the result is _so_ worth it!"

"You listen to hear, dear," the mirror advised, "she knows what she's talking about."

"You bet your sweet frame I do," Ginny agreed with a grin, and the mirror gave a shocked twitter of amusement.

"Ginny, you are a wonder," Hermione said softly, turning her head from side to side, clearly admiring the graceful curve of her neck.

"About time someone noticed!" Ginny quipped, her mouth twisting wryly.

"Have you decided how you want to wear your hair?" Hermione asked.

"I was thinking about it while I was combing your hair," Ginny said, her wry grin deepening. "And…if we're molding ourselves into images of the qualities we want others to see in us, then…my hair should be…something romantic."

Hermione nodded thoughtfully. "Curls, then? Up-swept and piled loosely on top of your head. Maybe even dotted with gems?"

"Hermione," Ginny said, half-laughing, "I think you have a hidden talent for this…but where on earth are we going to get the gems?"

Picking a piece of parchment up from a nearby desk, Hermione tore a bit off, rolling it about between her fingers, tapped it briefly with her wand, and held it out for Ginny's inspection. A tiny, silver-set topaz winked in her palm like a star. "After all," she said calmly, "I am a witch."

Ginny's hair took nearly as long to curl as Hermione's had to straighten, but while the result might have been slightly less dramatic, it was equally beautiful, and both girls were pleased with their labors.

Ginny applied lavender water to her pulse points while Hermione applied rose water—a Christmas gift Ginny had made over the summer—to hers. They helped one another slide their dress robes over their heads, careful not to disturb the painstaking hair styles.

Neither of their mothers approved of girls their age wearing much makeup, but both had admitted this was a special occasion. So, the girls applied a thin potion guaranteed to tint your skin—and only your skin—to an even, dewy tone to their faces.

Ginny outlined Hermione's eyes with a smoky gray pencil and dusted her eyelids with a powder that changed to suit the personality and mood of the person who wore it. The powder turned subtle variations of mauve, lavender, and taupe, a natural and arresting combination that made Hermione's amber eyes warm and glow, the green shadows gleaming like emeralds.

In turn, Hermione outlined Ginny's eyes with a rich chocolate brown, and dusted her eyelids with the same powder. On Ginny, the powder shimmered bone, ivory, and peach, making her tea-colored eyes look warm and sweet.

Finally, each applied a clear, shiny gel with similar properties—and the added bonus of personalized flavors—to their lips. Hermione's turned soft as a pale pink rose petal, exuding a slight scent of sun-ripened raspberries. Ginny's took the color of a peach just beginning to ripen, and a scent to match.

Hermione put a thin silver chain hung with dozens of tiny, sparkling crystals—"Mum and I bought it to match my robes"—and clipped cascades of matching crystals on silver strands to her ears.

Ginny clipped folds of charmed paper—similar to those in her hair—to her ears, and hung the silver mooncalf necklace Hagrid had given her around her neck. She slipped the silver slippers Charlie had sent onto her feet as Hermione donned a pair of strappy blue sandals with small heels.

The two of them looked at one another and sighed, mirroring each other as they straightened their shoulders. "Are we ready for this?" Hermione asked, sounding a bit nervous.

"Do we have a choice?" Ginny answered with a shaky smile.

Hermione smiled, too, and linked her arm through Ginny's as they emerged two butterflies from the cocoon of Ginny's dorm room.


	53. Having a Ball

Disclaimer—If you like it, assume I don't own it. The HP universe and all its inhabitants (minus Bion) belong to JK Rowling, Steve Kloves, Scholastic, WB, and etc…not to me. Most scenes also belong to the aforementioned. No copy infringement is intended, and no money is being made. Progress is a lot slower in this work, but I hope you'll stick with me anyway. My gratitude to all of the readers who have stuck with me and encouraged me up to this point. As you know, I may not own it, but I work hard, and I love it, so please don't post this elsewhere without my knowledge. I know there are discrepancies, but for now I like them and prefer to write new scenes instead of revising old ones.

Finally, it is no fault of my awesome and beloved beta reader if there are mistakes in this chapter. I was so happy to have completed it, I posted it before sending it to her.

* * *

Neville was waiting for them at the foot of the stairs. Blushing and looking at his feet, he told them both they looked very nice. Delighted with his admiration, the sincerity of which was not to be doubted, Hermione and Ginny sandwiched him in a hug, each of them pressing a kiss to one of his cheeks.

"You look pretty smashing yourself," Ginny said awkwardly, trying not to choke on the butterflies fluttering up from her stomach and into her throat.

Neville smiled sheepishly, then visibly pulling himself together, bowed stiffly and offered each of them an arm.

The three of them descended the staircases to the entrance hall together.

Being a head taller than most of the other students milling about, Krum had no trouble spotting them, and was already moving toward them as they reached the bottom of the stairs. Ginny squeezed Hermione's hand encouragingly as Krum approached. Hermione squeezed back, squared her shoulders, took a deep breath, and stepped forward to meet her date, ignoring the low surge of murmurs from the startled students all around them. Krum took both of Hermione's hands in both of his, and leaned down to rest his forehead against Hermione's.

All the girls standing around them gasped and sighed.

Ginny and Neville exchanged a slightly uncomfortable glance. Ginny shrugged. They started to move away, but before as they took the first step, Krum held up a hand, motioning for them to wait.

Tucking Hermione's hand into his arm, Krum moved slowly and confidently through the crowd, motioning for Ginny and Neville to follow. As he walked, awed students fell back to stare, parting the crowd. He escorted them to the front of the crowd near the door. He gravely shook each of their hands, and turned to lead Hermione away. Ginny thought she heard him muttering, "I vould like to stay vith your friends, but Professor Karkaroff says ve must all meet outside so ve can make a grand entrance together."

Ginny and Neville waited together in awkward but friendly silence. It was just as well neither of them really knew what to say let alone any burning desire to say it, as they probably wouldn't have been able to make themselves heard over the roar of the crowd anyway.

Ginny made a half-hearted effort to look around for others she knew, but the press of the crowd made her feel a bit dizzy. Even if this hadn't been the case, short as she was, she could barely see through the fluttering forest robes formed by the people standing nearest to her. She was aware of the sound of the oaken front doors swinging open, but she didn't exactly see them do it, nor did she see the foreign exchange students and their dates join the rest of them.

All-in-all, it was a great relief when the doors to the Great Hall opened, revealing that the usual long rows of the House Tables had been replaced with clusters of large, round tables swathed in green velvet and overlaid with white lace. They looked like evergreens in the snow.

The rafters of the ceiling had been hung with garlands of ivy, dotted with clusters of mistletoe. They stood out in stark relief against the twilight-purple sky of the ceiling. Snowflakes sparkled like fairy dust as they drifted in between banks of flaming white candles. The frost-coated walls glowed with a silver gleam.

The tables had already been set, red plates framed in gold, crystal goblets gleaming like ice.

Ginny and Neville decided on a table. Neville gallantly, if sheepishly, pulled her chair out for her, and was just helping her get situated, when Lee Jordan shouted, "Oy, over here! I found them!" Neville and Ginny both jumped.

Lee chuckled merrily, obviously quite pleased with himself, and put his arm around his date. "Fay, you know Neville Longbottom and Ginny Weasley from the Common Room, right?"

"Oh, sure. Neville's the one who won us the House Cup, right out from under Slytherin, a few years ago, right? And, Ginny _Weasley_—you must be—"

"She is," Fred assured Fay over her shoulder.

"As if there were any question," scoffed George, who had arrived accompanied by Alicia Spinnet. "What I do question, on the other hand, is what on earth _he's_ doing here?"

Fred gasped affronted. "What! Weatherby!"

Percy was sitting—very stiffly and importantly—at the only long rectangular table left in the room—the Hogwart's Head Table.

"What's he doing there?" Ginny asked confused. "I thought that table was reserved for teachers, Champions, and…" she paused, feeling as if realization was dawning, though the realization didn't make the slightest bit of sense. "Ministry Officials."

"Bet that stuffy Crouch couldn't be bothered," George said sagely.

"Hey, Ginny, mind if we join you?"

Ginny gaped.

"Oh, hey, Bion," Lee said for her. "Of course we don't mind."

"I…uh…hi…Bion….I…didn't know you were coming." Ginny said, still a bit dazed.

"Yeah, with all the hubbub and excitement before the Ball, we've barely waved at one another in the Halls lately," Bion said with a grin. "But I wouldn't have mentioned it even if I'd had time. I wanted to surprise you."

Ginny blinked. "Well, as you can see… you succeeded. It certainly is…a surprise…and a very nice one it is; it's lovely to see you. Your date has excellent taste, obviously."

The girl in question grinned and stuck out her hand. "Susan Bones, Hufflepuff," she said confidently. "You lot are Weasleys, right? My Aunt Amelia talks about your father a lot—she works at the Ministry, too, you see."

"Oh, right." Fred said cheerfully as George murmured, "Of course."

"Finally!" observed another, unfamiliar voice. "A face I recognize. Can you believe this madhouse, Bion?"

"Bit of a shock," Bion agreed. "But you're in luck. Have a seat."

The tall boy collapsed gratefully, running a hand through his thick, dark hair, rumpling it so that it stood on end almost like—Ginny hurriedly shunted the thought away.

"Michael, here—oh, and Mandy—are fellow Ravenclaws," Bion explained to the table at large.

Michael nodded absently. "Hey, there."

Before introductions could go much further, the doors to the Great Hall swung open again. Apparently, it was time for the Champions to make their entrance.

Fleur Delacour was first, as Ginny had little doubt she'd intended to be. She was a bit too stunning—if such a thing were possible—in clinging robes of silver-gray satin, her white-blonde hair a cascade of crystal-studded curls. Rather to Ginny's satisfaction, Michael, Bion, and Mandy ignored Fleur in favor of shouting and whistling encouragement to her date, Roger Davies. Roger, the Ravenclaw Quidditch Captain barely seemed to notice. He looked dazed. Ginny snorted and shook her head.

The strange, prickling annoyance Fleur seemed to provoke in Ginny was forgotten immediately, as Hermione came into view. The two-thirds of the table from Gryffindor made three times the noise the Ravenclaws had just produced, largely thanks to Fred and George. Hermione and Krum both waved in response, grinning madly.

Ginny caught sight of Ron, a few tables closer to the front of the room, leaning so far into the aisle he looked in danger of falling off of his chair. He wasn't cheering, just staring so intently Ginny was a bit worried Hermione's robes might burst into fire. A pretty girl sitting next to Ron crossed her arms over her chest and scowled. Ginny had a feeling she ought to intervene, but she was at an utter loss as to how.

Then Ginny caught sight of Harry and all thought disappeared.

Until Percy pulled out the chair next to him and all but forced Harry into it, at which point, Ginny's face was so hot she wouldn't have been a bit surprised to find it was giving off sparks like a Filibuster Firework. Lee patted her shoulder reassuringly while Fred and George grunted in disgust. She felt a bit better.

Professor Dumbledore picked up the menu lying across his plate and ordered. All through the Great Hall, people started to do the same. Ginny wondered if it were harder or easier for the House Elves to make individual servings appear on separate plates than the usual serving platters. It seemed about the same to her, though she realized she had no real basis for the judgment. She hoped Hermione wasn't going to expect her to be outraged later.

Although the lamb chops, dark and just slightly crisp with grilling on the outside, pink and juicy inside, dotted with rosemary and mint jelly just the color of Harry's eyes, were delicious enough to be worth a dozen future rants from Hermione.

The last lingering taste of chocolate-apricot torte was just fading from Ginny's tongue when Professor Dumbledore stood and asked the students to step away from the tables so he could sweep them neatly out of the way. The Weird Sisters were taking their places on the stage almost before Ginny realized Professor Dumbledore had conjured it.

The lighting dimmed. Ginny stared, feeling an eerie sense of _déjà vu_, as if she were falling into a trance, loosing herself…just as she had done in the past…she shuddered slightly. Harry looked so distant and unobtainable as he and Parvati whirled slowly past…and…Ginny shuddered again…in those green-tinted robes, with his dark hair and the shadows darkening his usually bright eyes…he didn't look like himself at all. But…he didn't exactly look unfamiliar…she rather wished he had…it would have been so much better than this…so much better than looking at Harry and seeing Tom. She swallowed hard.

"Ginny?" Neville whispered uncertainly. "Are you alright?"

"Mmm….what? No, I'm fine, Neville," Ginny said, pulling herself together with an effort, and reaching out to take Neville's hand. "Thank you for asking."

Other couples were beginning to drift onto the dance floor.

"Well," George asked as he and Alicia whirled past, "what are you waiting for?"

"An engraved invitation?" suggested Fred, twirling Angelina onto the dance floor.

Ginny laughed and tugged Neville onto the dance floor.

The first few dances were a bit uncomfortable. She had never really danced with anyone except her father before, and practicing with a broom had given her a tendency to lead. Neville, naturally enough, had the same tendency, and they kept pulling apart in different directions, or trying to put their feet in the same place at the same time.

After several minutes of breathless apologies on either side, a lot of wincing, and a great deal of laughter, however, they finally seemed to find their stride. And, suddenly, Ginny discovered, rather to her own surprise, that they were having a great deal of fun…and she'd hardly thought of anyone else—let alone Harry Potter—for quite a long time.

Until Hermione stormed across the dance floor in front of her, nearly tripping Neville in the process.

No words were necessary. Ginny and Neville broke apart and followed Hermione. They found her huddled in a quiet corner, knees pulled up to her chest, tears running silently down her cheeks. Ginny and Neville sat down on either side of her, sliding their arms across her shoulders.

"Ron's a prat," Neville said eventually.

Hermione made a sound of half-laugh, half-protest.

"No, Hermione," Ginny said firmly, exchanging a look with Neville, "it's true. We all know it."

"He may be a prat…but…Ginny, what he said…what if he's right?" Hermione gasped unhappily.

"Ron?" Ginny said incredulously. "Well…I suppose stranger things have happened…but only by accident."

"What did he say?" Neville asked quietly.

"That…that Viktor…only asked me to the Ball because…because he…he…wanted me to…help him cheat...against Harry!" Hermione sat straight up, eyes blazing, suddenly less upset than outraged.

"Well, even if Krum wanted that…which I doubt..." Ginny said slowly, "…having seen the way he was looking at you in the library…" Neville nodded in fervent agreement, "…anyone who knows you at all knows that you would never, ever do that."

"Ginny's right," Neville said.

"But…why…" Hermione began uncertainly.

Neville made a sound of pure exasperation. "Ron's just jealous."

The smile breaking across Hermione's watery face was miraculous. "Oh, Neville…"

"If Ron's determined to let jealousy ruin his evening, he deserves what he gets," Ginny said, squelching a sympathetic twinge.

"But don't give him the satisfaction of letting him ruin your fun," Neville added.

"Our fun," Ginny corrected, but gently, with a sympathetic squeeze for Hermione in the process.

"Our fun," Neville agreed with a grave nod, "too."

"Oops," Ginny said, catching sight of something. "Chin up. Here comes Krum."

Hermione hastily dashed the last of the tears from her eyes as the three of them struggled to their feet.

Krum strode purposefully toward them, carrying two dripping bottles of butterbeer, and wearing a scowl. "Herm-own-ninny, I thought you vere going to see Harry Potter. Did that boy say something to upset you?"

"Oh, nothing," Hermione said coolly, if a bit shakily.

Krum eyed her closely. She shrugged. "Nothing," she repeated, "of consequence."

"Those butterbeers look good," Neville interjected. "Don't they, Ginny? Co—"

"Vhy don't ve share?" Krum suggested. "Herm-own-ninny and I can take one, and you two can have the other."

"Oh, that's nice of you." Ginny said uneasily. "Okay. Thanks."

In spite of her misgivings, the shared butterbeer was both not only fortifying, but pleasant. Krum was kind enough to dispose of the bottles for them, and even suggested he and Ginny share a dance so Hermione could partner Neville.

This appeared to start something of a trend, and soon everyone was swapping partners.


End file.
